The Scarlet Letter
by Blueberrychills94
Summary: Alec has never known much about The Scarlet Letter; the Cabaret House that his parents run in LA. When he gets an opportunity to learn more he becomes entangled in a dark history, all while falling for suave performer Magnus Bane. There's more to The Scarlet Letter than what it seems on the surface and what Maryse and Robert expect of their performers goes beyond simple routines...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I've been wanting to write more Malec recently, especially with Shadowhunters Season 2 being just around the corner, I've just been waiting for the right inspiration. Then I saw a video on Youtube that jumped started my brain and planted an idea in my head. So here it is! Chapter one of The Scarlet Letter!**

 **This will be a darker fic than my last Malec story, so please be warned of the following triggers:**

 **Abuse; prostitution; mentions of suicide and self-harm; forced participation; blackmail; and broken home.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments or Shadowhunters. They belong to Cassandra Clare and Freeform.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **The Scarlet Letter**

Chapter One

Alec hated airports. The flocks of people, all too caught up in their own business to even so much as look where they're going; he could deal with. The bored; exhausted; and rude receptionists, he could deal with. He could even deal with the multiple bags he would trip over in the waiting areas just to get to the gates. But what he could not handle, nor understand, was airport security. Anything with even a whiff of an accent is an apparent threat, and stripping down to your bare essentials just to prove you're not a terrorist gets exhausting. It was one of the reasons that Alec avoided visiting his family as much as possible. That, and he had university to contend with . . .

When the security finally stopped the awkward chit chat (once they discovered that he wasn't a drug dealer, the usual painfully uncomfortable 'so why are you visiting our country? Holiday or Business?' followed) and released Alec from their clutches, he practically ran to the exit. To keep it casual he walked at a brisk pace as the last thing he needed was security deciding that he was hiding something by bolting away.

The sun attacked his eyes as soon as he set foot outside. Alec lifted his hand to rest above his eyes shrugged his bag back up his arm, scanning the carpark for his sister. She said she'd come pick him up, and he had definitely told her the right time to arrive at. Alec wasn't surprised. Isabelle had a body clock that worked five hours slower than everyone else's. He should have had the forethought to tell her to come at least two hours before his arrival time. At least then there was a possibility of her being on time.

He was pleasantly surprised when he saw Isabelle leaning against a car not far from the entrance. A pair of massive sunglasses took up at least 45% of her face but Alec couldn't mistake her anywhere. Maybe it was the way she dressed; or the makeup she wore; or just the simple fact that he was her sister; whatever the reason, Alec could probably spot her out of a crowd of millions.

Isabelle looked up from her phone as she sensed her brother approaching. "Salut frêre!" she grinned, closing the final couple of paces and throwing her arms around Alec's neck.

"Salut Isabelle," Alec replied into his sister's hair. She had it done up in a messy bouffant; a sign that she would be working tonight.

"God, it's been too long," Isabelle complained as she released him from her embrace. "You need to visit more often."

"University doesn't give much room for long distance travel," Alec shrugged apologetically.

Isabelle tutted. She knew that travel wasn't the complete reason why Alec didn't visit LA too often but didn't comment any further. "Mum and Dad are away for the evening _however_ they will be here tomorrow morning so hopefully we should be able to get breakfast together."

Alec nodded as they headed towards the car. The driver in the front seat wore no expression, his face as animated as a block of wood. Alec found it extremely unnerving as Isabelle clamoured into the back seat. He dumped his bag into the trunk of the car and got in beside her. He wasn't a fan of being driven around, especially since he wasn't the one paying for it, and couldn't wait to get home to gain access to his car.

"Where are Mum and Dad tonight anyways?" he asked.

Isabelle threw her phone up into the air and caught it again. "Something to do with an investment they're trying to make with some businessman to aid The Scarlet Letter," she said. "I don't know the full details; all I know is that they had to go all the way to the other side of the city for it."

Alec frowned. "Does The Letter need investments?" he asked.

His sister shrugged. "I don't know. They don't tell me much . . . I'm sure Jace knows more than I do."

The city passed by outside the car window in a blur, Alec's eyes unable to capture something for more than a moment before it was gone from view. He didn't know LA at all, the entire city completely unfamiliar to him. He was so accustomed to Paris, where his family originated from, but had always been fascinated with America, where most of the Lightwoods now resided.

There was a time when all of Alec's family lived in Paris. They weren't the most functional of units but they still loved each other all the same. When their grandparents died when Alec was ten years old, his parents Maryse and Robert were given the family business-The Scarlet Letter- in their will. They moved to LA and left their children with their childminder Hodge in Paris. Eventually, as they grew older, Isabelle and Jace also moved to LA. It was rather sudden. First it was a desire to visit their parents, the next minute they were staying to work for them.

Alec had considered moving to join his family many times, but he had always had a desire to study medicine. Ever since Max broke his arm when he fell off his bicycle and had to get a cast on. He knew it would take a lot of commitment and jumping between France and America just wasn't feasible when studying for his Doctorate. His parents never contacted him that much, but he always spoke to his siblings over Skype, so it can be understood why he was slightly surprised by their invitation to come and visit over the Summer.

To be fair, it _was_ long overdue. It had been a year and half since Isabelle and Jace moved. Alec couldn't say he missed his parents to the same degree that he missed his siblings, as it had been eleven years since he'd last seen his Mum and Dad. It would be nice to finally visit them after so long and get to understand what the family business entailed.

"I'm working tonight so we probably won't be able to get home until late," Isabelle explained. "Saturday nights are the best for The Scarlet Letter, although it can be overwhelming so don't say I didn't warn you."

"Overwhelming in what way?" Alec asked skeptically.

Whenever Alec enquired about what really happened at The Scarlet Letter, all Isabelle or Jace ever really said was 'it's a Cabaret House'. Alec hadn't been all too surprised by this, as his ancestors had worked inside and been performers at The Moulin Rouge in Paris before it was burned down. Isabelle had always explained The Scarlet Letter as 'a means of bringing their ancestors' profession across the water, with a modern twist'.

"It's just not your scene," Isabelle answered. "I don't know how to describe it, really. You're just so . . ." She waved her hands in the air, as if the words were going to jump from her perfectly manicured fingers . . . "innocent."

Alec grimaced. He wanted to argue with her but he didn't have much evidence for his defence. Besides, arguing with Isabelle was as useful as trying to cut an orange with a spoon. He was sure that her use of the word innocent was probably more to do with her inability to find a better word anyways. Or so he told himself.

"A lot goes on there, all at once," Isabelle clarified. "It's all very, _bam!_ "

"Right," Alec said. "That makes perfect sense."

"Well, I don't know, do I?"

"You've been working there long enough," Alec teased, poking her in the ribs. Isabelle snickered and slapped his hand away from her. "A year and a half is quite a while."

Isabelle paused. For a long moment, she just sat there, eyes blotted out by the thick black lens of her sunglasses. She almost looked like a statue before she finally said, "Has it really only been a year and a half? It feels like it's been longer."

Alec was surprised by this answer. Most commonly, people could claim that it's been no time at all. Isabelle loved working at The Scarlet Letter, so at least that meant that the time she had spent working there felt longer than it actually was.

The Scarlet Letter was on a busy street deep in LA. Even as the sun was beginning to set and the sky was turning pink, a steady stream of people walked around Isabelle and Alec as they stood in the street. Many of them were entering The Letter itself, so much so that Alec couldn't see through the doors.

"Is it usually this busy?" he asked as he gazed up at the blazing red lights of the Letter's sign.

"What did you expect? It's a Saturday," Isabelle murmured, her head dipped as she texted someone on her phone.

"It's only seven o'clock . . ."

Isabelle snorted with amusement. She lifted her head and grinned. "People like to get a good seat." She whipped the sunglasses off her face and winked. "I bet they know I'm working tonight."

Alec scratched the back of his head thoughtfully. "So you're popular?"

"Damn right I am," Isabelle replied. "Come on, while we're still semi-empty."

The term 'semi-empty' must have been used very loosely by his sister. The two of them still had to jostle their way through the entrance. Alec didn't get a good look at the entrance corridor due to this. The round yellow lights that lined the deep red walls were very blinding, which didn't help his ability to see.

Eventually, the stream of people stopped at what looked like a ticket booth. Isabelle pushed her way to the front and threw herself at the counter. "What's up, Clarissa?" she declared, folding her arms on top of the counter and leaning her weight against it.

A red headed girl, who Alec assumed was Clarissa, appeared from underneath the office counter. "You're back already?" she asked, sounding surprised. "I thought you would have been longer."

"I like to cut it fine, Clary," Isabelle answered. "You know, for dramatic effect. I was only there for about a minute until Alec showed up."

Alec finally managed to drag his bag through the crowd and joined Isabelle in front of the booth. Clary looked at him and grinned. "You must be Alec," she said.

"Alec, is this Clary," Isabelle explained. "She keeps the masses at bay until we open."

"Hi, ah, Clary," Alec awkwardly said. He wasn't good with people he didn't know and never managed to hide that from his voice when he spoke. Even back home, he didn't interact all that much with his classmates. He spoke to them on occasion when he had to but never socialised whenever it was unnecessary.

"Gosh, you sound just how Isabelle did when she first moved here," said Clary. "Minus the femininity of course."

Alec had to admit, he had been surprised when Isabelle lost her accent so quickly. Both she and Jace seemed to blend into the American culture so easy. Whenever they argued over Skype, he could sometimes hear their accents coming through but besides that it was barely there. Going from an environment where what he sounded like was normal to an environment where his voice was nothing like anyone else was a bit strange. To him, it was like everyone else were the ones talking weird, not him.

"Wait you see, he'll have suitors attempting to knock down his door when they hear his accent," Isabelle teased.

"I highly doubt that," Alec interjected, face burning with embarrassment at his sister's words.

"You'd be surprised," Clary grinned, dropping into the swivel chair behind the counter. "Isabelle got swamped when she first moved here."

 _Yeah, but that's Isabelle._ Alec wasn't shocked by this knowledge but he didn't think it had anything to do with his sister's French origins. She was smart and beautiful, any man with half a brain would be after her. It made him uncomfortable to think about but he knew that his sister got around. He didn't judge her for it, it was her right to do whatever she wanted, but that didn't make it any easier to think about. She was his little sister after all.

"Is Jace here?" Isabelle asked.

"Yeah, he should be. Go on through." Clary spun around on her seat, her upbeat grin never leaving her face.

Isabelle pushed away from the counter and gestured for Alec to follow her through to a set of double doors beside Clary's office. Behind the door was shrouded in darkness for a moment before Isabelle opened a thick red curtain. Light spilled in and beyond that was an almost cavernous room, which Alec assumed was the main room.

It was so large it practically gave him a light head as he absorbed it all. There were empty tables littered around the wooden floor with chairs sitting on top of them. The ceiling felt like it was miles away, reaching practically up to the heavens. As Alec looked around with awe, he could hear Isabelle's heels loudly clinking against the floor as she walked ahead of him.

"Jace!" she shouted. Her voice echoed loudly in the large empty room. "You here? Jace, get out here!"

It took a moment before blond head appeared from offstage. Jace swaggered out to centre stage, a cheeky smirk on his face. Alec couldn't help smiling simply from the sight of his adoptive brother standing there. "Bonjour!" Jace called, a jokey lilt to his voice. He front flipped off the edge of the stage, his feet barely making a sound as they made contact with the floor. "What took you so long?"

"Traffic," Isabelle answered flatly.

The three of them met half way across the room. "It's about time you hauled ass here," Jace told Alec, grabbing his hand and slapping his back in welcome.

"I know, I got held up," Alec replied. He shrugged. "School and stuff."

"Oh yeah, Mr Smarty Pants," Jace teased as Isabelle broke away from them and headed towards the stage. "How's that going anyways?"

"It's tough, not going to lie," Alec admitted.

"Just quit and join us here!" Isabelle called. She single handedly pushed herself up onto the stage, sitting comfortably on the edge and returning her eyes to her phone. "You'd make an excellent stagehand." It was obvious from the smirk on her face that she was joking. She, out of everyone in Alec's family, had been the most supportive when he told her he wanted to pursue medicine.

"Where's Max?" asked Alec.

"With Mum and Dad," Jace shrugged as they made their way to the other side of the room where Isabelle sat. "They don't trust us to look after him."

"Why not?"

"It's difficult to keep an eye on a tiny boy with a tendency to explore around here, especially on a night as busy as Saturdays," Jace said.

Alec decided that that was probably for the best. Max had always had a desire to explore and if The Scarlet Letter got as busy as Isabelle claimed it did on Saturday nights, it would be very easy to lose him to the crowd. Especially since Isabelle and Jace themselves would be too busy working and Alec himself didn't know the building well enough to go looking if he had gone missing.

As he left his bag on the floor, Alec noticed that the stage was covered in glitter. "What's with the sparkles?" he asked.

Isabelle looked over her shoulder at the stage floor, passing her palm over it thoughtfully. "You can never get rid of all of it, so we stopped trying," she said.

"What requires so much glitter?" Alec frowned. Glitter was hard to remove completely, sure, but the amount that was stuck to the floor of the stage was a lot more than the odd piece that wouldn't shift.

Jace jumped onto the stage in a single leap. "Magnus can be excessive with it during his performances."

"Who?"

His sister chuckled and shook her head. "You'll find out tonight. Don't want to spoil the line-up for you. You have to witness it first hand, like everyone else currently waiting outside."

Alec looked behind him, at the thick velvet curtains in which the entrance lay behind. "How long do they wait for?" He couldn't help wondering how long the crowds would wait for since there was already many people outside and it didn't even look like the place was set up yet.

"Hours on end, sometimes." Jace shrugged as if this were a common thing. Alec knew that his parents' business was popular but he had never imagined that it was line up outside for hours like the latest iPhone was being released popular. He couldn't help feeling slightly daunted by it but at the same time extremely thankful for his lack of involvement in it.

"Told you it's very in your face," Isabelle grinned. "Even when we're not open yet there's always something going on . . ."

Alec rolled his eyes and rested his elbows on the edge of the stage. "So what type of show do you guys put on that makes Saturdays so popular?" he asked.

"Obviously, we aren't going to tell you," Jace laughed. "It has to be a surprise."

"That worries me more than it excites me," Alec pointed out, which only made his siblings laugh even more.

"Don't worry about it, big brother," Isabelle grinned, pocketing her phone and jumping to her feet. "I need to get ready now or else I never will. I'll help you find something to wear when I'm finished."

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?!" Alec exclaimed as his sister disappeared offstage with Jace following not far behind.

"Many things!" Isabelle called back.

Then, there was silence.

Alec sat on the stage alone, overlooking the empty room. The room itself was extremely intimidating due to its sheer size and grandeur. He didn't know how Isabelle or Jace could stand there, right in the centre, with hundreds of eyes on them nearly every night, and perform. In a way, he was very jealous of the confidence they clearly had in order to do such a thing. Alec would give himself a pat on the back if he managed to hold a conversation with the cashier in the shop, yet his siblings were performing in a popular establishment without any hindrance. The three of them were on opposite sides of the spectrum.

He thought of his parents and how much he actually dreaded seeing them the next morning. Alec knew that he had to do it, he had to tell them, as they were the only ones left who didn't know. He couldn't predict how they'd react to it but he had an awful feeling it wouldn't be well. At least Isabelle and hopefully Jace would be there as support. If he had been on his own, Alec knew that he wouldn't be even considering telling them during his visit, even if it was about time they knew about it.

It was becoming difficult to hide this part of his life, even from his parents who he didn't see often. Being gay was something he had never been ashamed of himself, but the longer he hid it from his parents the longer he had to keep up this façade to them that he was going to find a nice girl and give them grandchildren. It was harder than it sounded and most definitely extremely draining.

The idea of telling them about it and them both turning their backs on him made Alec feel physically sick. He had been going over how the conversation was going to go in his head for at least the past two weeks, scenarios varying from acceptance to rejection flooding his brain constantly. Alec's relationship with his parents wasn't exactly the strongest. He barely knew them and could hardly remember them from his childhood, but he didn't want to ruin any chances of connection with them by informing them that he was gay. He didn't know what their thoughts on that kind of thing was and he was terrified that he'd disgust them.

A voice suddenly became to filter in through from somewhere backstage. Alec looked over his shoulder with a frown. He didn't recognise the voice. It was masculine but definitely not Jace. Jace couldn't sing to save his life and this voice was so beautiful it was almost lulling. Alec didn't know the song but the way it was being sung made shivers jitter down his spine. He sat there, feeling almost entranced, and listened for what felt like ages but in reality had only been a couple of minutes.

It stopped without warning and Alec felt like he'd been poked with an electric prod. Like he'd been on a cloud and was suddenly pushed off. Despite being alone, he felt slightly embarrassed by his ability to get so caught up in the song or, more accurately, the voice that was singing it. Maybe it was his Lightwood traits shining through but he had a soft spot for music. Maybe not the same brand of music as the sort that was performed at The Scarlet Letter but he had to admit that he was a sucker for anything subtly beautiful.

It made him wonder who the owner of the voice was. If it hadn't been Jace, it peaked Alec's curiosity towards the sorts of performers that did frequent the Letter. It didn't exactly make him anymore excited towards having to endure the Letter on a popular night but it did make his inquisitive nature bloom like a flower in spring. Alec had definitely inherited the same curious gene as Max had, but only when it came to particular things such as medicine and music.

With a sigh, Alec hopped off the stage and slung his bag over his shoulder. He then took the stairs back up and went backstage to see where Isabelle had disappeared off to.

He had a feeling that tonight was going to be a long night.

 **A/N: Please do leave your thoughts and check out the video that inspired this story:**

 **: / / w w w . ? v = k**

 **Remember to paste the link with no spaces!**

 **Thanks for reading! I'm quite excited about this one so I hope you guys like it! You can keep updated on my fanfiction going ons on my twitter BBerrychills94.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm sorry this chapter took a while to come out! I fully intend to continue this story, I'm just struggling to find the time and motivation to put the ideas I have down onto paper. No matter how long it takes, I do wish to continue as I'm quite excited about the idea!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Shadowhunters or The Mortal Instruments.**

Chapter Two

"What's this?"

Isabelle grinned, the glitter on her eyelids sparkling under the overhead light. There was a low rumble outside the door that escalated every couple of minutes. "It's The Scarlet Letter."

Alec took the little red pendant off his sister and held it in his palm. "What?" he frowned.

"Have you never heard of Hester Prynne and The Scarlet Letter?" Isabelle asked. "It's basically the entire basis of The Letter's theme."

Alec awkwardly pinned the badge to his jacket. "Keep in mind that I know nothing about anything right now. I don't know anything about the business, let alone what it's themes are based on."

His sister sighed and reached between them to fix his collar. She was wrapped up in a fluffy pink nightgown and Alec had a feeling she wasn't wearing much beneath it. He knew that this was the sort of thing to expect from a performer at The Scarlet Letter but that didn't change the fact that Isabelle was his sister and the thought of her being near naked was about as comfortable to him as trying to pierce his eyeball with a needle.

"In Nathaniel Hawthorne's novel, The Scarlet Letter, Hester Prynne is forced to wear a scarlet 'A' on her dress as a punishment for adultery," Isabelle explained. "The 'A' standing for adulteress."

"So . . . why am I wearing it?" Alec was confused and partially alarmed by his sister's justification for giving him a scarlet letter. What was she insinuating?

"It's the gimmick," Isabelle chuckled. She seemed to have become obsessed with straightening Alec out, for she was now trying to smooth the wrinkles out of his jacket. "Wearing the letter means that you're like a VIP. You get access to the front row; first drinks are free; backstage access; freebies; etcetera."

"But it still means adulteress?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "It can mean 'Alec' if you're going to be a whinge about it . . ."

Alec batted Isabelle's hands off his jacket, despite her complaints about him looking like a hobo. "So, what do you have to do to be graced with the 'Alec' pin?" he asked to silence her insistence that he looked like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards.

"It's a very selective club," Isabelle teased, moving to her dressing table and tidying up the makeup that was strewn everywhere. "You're the fourth member."

"Only four?"

"Mmhm. It's mainly made up of The Letter's main investors: Miss Belcourt; Mr Santiago; and Miss Seelie," Isabelle answered. She shrugged. "We don't trust many people with the honour of it. It would be too easily abused, especially in an establishment like this."

Alec watched Isabelle clean up her table with only mild interest. There was so much makeup strewn all over the desk he couldn't begin to imagine what everything was for. He quite liked that Isabelle could do her own makeup, though. She was very talented with it and she knew what she suited; no makeup artist would be able to recreate what Isabelle was capable of.

Despite this, it got Alec thinking. Did all the performers sort their own makeup and costume? He'd spent most of the afternoon with Isabelle and most of her preparation process consisted of picking her outfit and doing her hair and makeup. Could The Scarlet Letter not afford artists? It was sort of odd, considering the popularity of the Letter's shows and that there were already three investors putting money into the business. Not to mention that their parents were apparently out meeting another possible investor that night.

Maybe he was overthinking. Besides, Alec couldn't imagine Isabelle allowing anyone to tell her what to do.

Isabelle's dressing room was compact but multipurpose. There was a built-in wardrobe; a dressing table; a lounge chair; and a full-length mirror on the back of the door. It was a bit crammed with them both inside it but Alec guessed it was designed to only be a one-person room.

"I think I might change my outfit again, and I doubt you want to witness that for the fifth time this evening. You should go out and merge with the masses," Isabelle suggested. "I took the liberty of asking Clary to reserve you a seat at the front."

Alec knew that Isabelle had instantly spotted the reluctant expression on his face. It was no secret that he was socially stunted. He didn't know why; he just wasn't good in social situations. He had clearly been born with some sort of awkward streak that had been imprinted into his brain.

"It'll be good for you," Isabelle insisted. She opened her dressing room door and gently ushered him out. "Try and mingle a bit; get a feel for the atmosphere. The show starts in fifteen minutes."

His sister left no room for argument as she shut the door as soon as Alec crossed the threshold. Alec was unnerved about being thrown into a social environment without his sister by his side, but he was comforted by the fact that Isabelle had not changed at all in the year and half they'd been apart. Even back home she was forever trying to encourage him into situations that made him uncomfortable. She always claimed that pushing his comfort zone would help him grow because socialising was healthy for the mind.

As Alec made his way through the dark corridor of dressing rooms towards the main floor, he couldn't help thinking about how his sister may have been on to something. Sure, Isabelle's pushing had always been extremely annoying, but ever since he started studying medicine and closed himself off to his classmates, he'd gotten himself into a slump. Alec knew that he probably should have spoken to someone about it by this point but he wasn't exactly comfortable with talking about his feelings. He'd rather stay awkward and silent than reveal to anyone what was going on inside his head. Besides, who would care, really?

Now he had to enter the main room of his own family business that he knew nothing about and was currently filled with strangers most likely getting drunk and having fun. Why did that unsettle him? Was he going to look like a sore thumb if he didn't look like he was enjoying himself, too? Alec had always had more internalised reactions to these kinds of things. He could be having the time of his life but wouldn't tend to show it on his face.

Just as he'd feared, the main floor was full of people when he came out of the dressing room corridor. He swallowed hard and pushed away his concern, deciding to get a drink to soothe his nerves a bit. Isabelle did say if he wore the red 'A' he'd get one for free, so he may as well take the liberty while he had it.

Alec made his way to the bar, trying to avoid making eye contact with anyone. The atmosphere was buzzing with electricity, the Saturday night patrons clearly full of beans. Alec had never experienced anything like it and yet he wasn't much more than an observer. They really hadn't been kidding when they said The Scarlet Letter was popular on Saturday nights, but then the gaggle of people at the doors earlier pretty much confirmed this anyway.

A young girl was working behind the bar. She looked about Isabelle's age and had a full head of dark curly hair. As soon as she finished serving a middle-aged couple, she turned to Alec and, upon seeing him, declared, "Another Lightwood!"

Alec stared at the girl for a moment, alarmed. How did she know that? He'd never met this girl before in his entire life. "What? How do you know?"

"If your mother's eye colour hadn't given it away, your accent just did," the bartender grinned. She stuck her hand out towards him. "I'm guessing that you're Alexander, Jace and Isabelle's brother. I'm Maia. I work here most nights at the bar."

"Uh, call me Alec," Alec replied, awkwardly shaking Maia's hand.

"I see Isabelle gave you your scarlet letter," Maia observed.

Alec looked at the pin that was stuck to his jacket. He forced a smile and nodded. "Uh, yeah, she did."

"Means the first drink is on the house. What's your poison?" asked Maia.

"Just water," Alec shrugged. It wasn't particularly exciting but he was meeting his parents for the first time in years the next morning, he didn't want to be hung over for that. As tempting as it was to get a proper drink, he'd have to wait until another night. Another night where there weren't important things to do the next morning.

Maia didn't question his choice. "Here, take a jug," she said, passing over a jug full of chilled water and a tall glass. "Call it a Lightwood privilege. Besides, water is free so if you fancy getting something stronger later your pin will still be valid."

"Thanks," Alec replied, forcing another smile. It wasn't that he didn't want to show his gratitude but gestures such as smiles didn't come to him naturally very often. Unless around his family, he usually had to consciously tell himself to turn his lips upwards. He was one of those people who had a resting bitch face, hence why not many people tried to interact with him when he was silent.

There were a couple of mishaps during his journey to his reserved table. The Letter's main room was so alive that quite a few people nearly blindly ploughed straight over him while dancing. There was a live band currently playing modern music on the stage but it was obvious that they weren't the main attraction. The Scarlet Letter were famous for their performers, not the bands.

His table was thankfully not hard to pick out. Clary left a bright red notice on the table with 'Reserved for Alexander' written in black cursive on it. As Isabelle said, the table was near the front, just far back enough to have a perfect view of what would happen on the stage. He knew that his sister must have had a hand in writing the reservation note as only she knew that calling him by his full name had always been a pet peeve of his.

It was odd how a person could be in a room packed out with people yet feel like they're completely alone. Alec couldn't imagine interacting with any of the Letter's patrons as the party crowd wasn't exactly his scene, however there was a definite twinge of almost emptiness that he undeniably felt sitting on his own at a table while so much life and enjoyment occurred around him. Like he was some sort of alien trying to blend in with a bunch of people who were nothing like him.

When the lights dimmed down, an immediate hush took over. Like this was the universal signal for shut the hell up. Maybe it was, Alec didn't know. It was almost welcome. Alec had never been a massive fan of loud rackets-it was why he didn't go out every weekend to clubs and preferred to stay in his dorm-so he couldn't help the rush of relief he felt when everyone in the Letter piped down for the show. At least they weren't ignorant. There was nothing more frustrating than when you're trying to pay attention to something and those around you won't shut up. Like those irritating types of people who would go to a cinema to watch a film and spend the entire time talking.

The curtains were drawn up from the stage and Alec recognised the familiar clicking of his sister's heels against the floor. It didn't matter what type of heels she was wearing; Alec always knew when it was Isabelle approaching.

When Isabelle appeared in the middle of the stage and the spotlight hit her, Alec was immediately hit with déjà vu.

She was dressed like Liza Minnelli in Cabaret. They used to watch that movie a lot when they were children. It had been just a random VHS tape they had found in their parents' cabinet when Alec was eight and Isabelle was six. They didn't exactly understand a lot of what happened during the movie due to the short attention span that came hand in hand with being young, but they did enjoy the performances, Liza's in particular. It was a nostalgic overload, especially since it was so unexpected. It didn't really occur to Alec that maybe his parents had that video tape because of the Lightwood's history with the art of Cabaret as it wasn't the only piece of media related to the medium that they owned.

This was probably the real reason why Isabelle got him to leave her dressing room so she could change again. She wanted to surprise him with a throwback to their childhood. It felt so long ago since Alec had thought back on something as simple as watching old video tapes with his sister. But seeing her now, dressed up and ready to perform, with a wooden chair centre stage, it was almost like he was a kid again, laughing at his silly younger sister as she pranced around the living room shouting, "Mein Herr!" because it was the only part of the song she picked up.

Getting to watch Isabelle perform Mein Herr like she had always wanted to as a child made Alec forget about the awkward loneliness he had previously felt. He was blown away by how she could do the choreography down to near enough perfection. For all he knew, this could have been Isabelle's regular routine, and a year and half of doing the same routine over and over again has refined her ability, but even so it made him proud.

Then again, Isabelle could have done just about anything and Alec would have been proud of her.

The comment Isabelle had made earlier in regards to her popularity had not been an understatement. She was met with raucous applause at the end, the cheers and whistles almost deafening. Isabelle gladly reaped it in, her confidence so strong Alec sometimes wondered if some of the confidence he should have had went to her instead through a genetic mix up. Not that he'd care all that much if it had; Isabelle wouldn't be Isabelle without her natural confident flare.

After Isabelle's performance, there were others that Alec didn't recognise. He took this opportunity to step outside for some air. The crowd inside the Letter was so large that the body heat turned the temperature up to impossibly high degrees. He felt like he was choking under his collar, the fact that he wasn't at all comfortable in Isabelle's choice of clothing not making the breathing situation any easier.

It was a thankfully cool night. Alec had always thought that America, places like L.A. in particular, were always hot. It wasn't cold at night but at least it was colder than it _had_ been during the day. It was also colder than the current temperature of the interior of The Scarlet Letter and that was all he needed at the moment.

"Need a breather?"

Alec was startled by Clary's voice, having completely forgotten about her. She was leaning against one of the pillars that held the Letter up, smoking a cigarette into the night sky. "Yeah," he answered slowly, unsure about anything else he could say in response.

Clary sighed. "It can be a lot to take in all at once, family business or not," she said. She let the hand that held the cigarette rest against her thigh as she brushed her orange hair back from her face. "It took me a while to get used to and I still don't know if I fully am. I can't really say that this is my sort of place, but a job is a job. No offence."

"None taken."

Alec could understand how The Scarlet Letter wouldn't appeal to everyone. In fact, there were a lot of people it would probably offend more than anything. There was a reason he chose not to work at The Letter and it was mainly because of exactly what Clary said: It was too much. In school, he could study and improve to achieve his goals but in The Scarlet Letter a person's success was based solely on luck, public performance and popularity. Three things Alec was never good at.

"Once I've sold the tickets I stay out here," Clary admitted. "It's way too loud in there. I love the performances but I couldn't stick that crowd. I only go in when Jace is doing his bit."

"Why's that?" Alec frowned.

Clary shook her head and took another drag of her cigarette. "Sorry, that's right, I keep forgetting that you're new around here," she apologised. "Jace is my boyfriend."

It was like a kick in the gut. It was something that Alec had been anticipating for a while now but had never actually prepared himself for. The real question should really have been why it hadn't happened sooner, as Jace was an impossibly attractive guy who could have had any girl that he wanted. Maybe that was why it had taken so long; just because you can have anything doesn't mean you're going to take anything.

Alec had an emotional complexity when it came to his brother Jace. They weren't related by blood. Alec's parents adopted Jace when his father died. They had been a family unit for so long, Alec couldn't remember a time when Jace hadn't been there. He knew that Isabelle certainly couldn't either, and for Max it was near impossible due to the fact he had only been a baby when they took Jace in. So, logically, Alec should only see Jace as a brother.

It felt deeper than that, though. Something beyond brotherly love. Alec didn't exactly know how to describe it, hence why he never spoke about to it anyone. Maybe he felt responsible for Jace, the same way he felt responsible for Isabelle and Max as his siblings. That didn't explain why he felt a pang of jealousy whenever Jace would talk about a past conquest, though, or how he felt like Clary had just walked right up to him and shoved him over onto the cold pavement.

"Oh. Jace didn't . . ."

"Say anything?" Clary answered. "I'm not surprised. He hasn't even told his parents about us."

Alec didn't know whether to take that as assurance or not. Should he be comforted by Jace's reluctance to mention his relationship to their parents? Did that mean it wasn't serious? Why did he care if it was serious anyways?

"Maryse is very strict about her performers," Clary continued, almost as if she had read Alec's thoughts. Her eyes skittered across the pavement and looked out at the lights of the passing traffic. She sighed. "Very strict."

Alec couldn't say what his mother was like from memory. He was lucky if he remembered what height she was let alone how she behaved. However, the idea of her being strict felt very familiar to him. An echo from his childhood making her controlling behaviour make sense. Although, was being strict about messy bedrooms really the same as being strict about who her performers-her _son_ -dates?

Not that Jace was ever really the type to listen to authority anyway.

"What does Jace do anyway? Performance-wise?" asked Alec.

"He started as a stage hand during the time he came to visit his parents," Clary explained. "But as the months progressed he showed a sudden interest on going on stage. It was out of the blue but not unwelcome. He now mainly goes on as a subordinate in Magnus Bane's hour."

"Magnus Bane's hour?"

Clary nodded and grinned, almost like she remembered an inside joke. "I can't tell you anything about that, now," she said. "You must experience that on your own. It's not something that can really be put into words."

Alec wanted to get Clary to try. He didn't like walking into things blind. "Well, what sort of performance is it?"

Clary shrugged. "It's Magnus Bane . . ."

"That does not help me in the slightest."

"I can't put it any other way."

Alec supposed it was a good thing that Clary was not the one who had to sell the club's attributes to people. How can an employee not even describe what one of the performer's shticks is? Wasn't the whole reason that The Scarlet Letter was popular the amazing acts that performed daily? Were they really so amazing that the act itself could not be put into words? Was this Magnus guy the same Magnus who Jace had claimed was excessive with glitter?

" . . . where is he? I'm going to tell him! Urgh, I should have seen this coming, move!"

Isabelle burst out of the front doors, still completely kitted out in her Mein Herr gear. "Alec!" she shouted. "Why did you disappear like that?"

"It's really hot in there," Alec immediately responded, ducking out of the way as Isabelle tried to hit him. "I left during the smaller acts, I figured it didn't matter that much!"

"There are no small acts," Isabelle said indignantly. Her fake anger didn't last too long as a smile broke out across her face. "What did you think? Was I good?"

"I'd almost say you were on par with Liza herself," Alec answered. It didn't feel like he was exaggerating, either. He genuinely meant it when he said that.

"Don't be stupid!" Isabelle grinned. "Really?"

Alec nodded, not having realised until that moment how he had missed the simple pleasure of making his sister smile. God, why had he left it so long before visiting? "I could have done with a nostalgia warning, though. I wasn't prepared for it."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "That was the point, stupid," she said. She spun on her heel to face Clary and added, "You might wanna finish that up quick, he's on in five." Clary nodded, but didn't seem to make any attempt to smoke faster. A second later, she stubbed it out on the wall and flicked it into an ashtray that was built into the exterior wall. Isabelle then spun back around to face Alec again and said, "You have to get back in there. Jace is on soon."

That meant that this indescribable hour was about to begin. Right. Alec couldn't lie, his interest was peaked about this. Maybe that had been Clary's intention all along. Maybe she knew full well how to describe this oncoming hour but knew that higher interest came with the mystery of it. Why go to a performance if you know what to expect? The hook is in the anonymity of it all.

Isabelle all but pushed Alec back inside The Letter, Clary following not far behind. Alec didn't know whether he was hallucinating or not but it felt like it was more difficult to get from door to chair since he had been outside for an hour. But nobody had gone in or else they'd have passed himself and Clary at the doors.

Since Clary didn't have a Scarlet Letter pin herself, she chose to linger near the back of the room while Isabelle chose to continue to haul her brother back to his table. She wanted Alec to see both what she and Jace did at The Letter, to show him that just because they weren't pursuing conventional careers, they were still doing well for themselves. She didn't seem to realise that Alec didn't care if they didn't follow the norm, in fact he preferred it that way. Ever since they were kids it was obvious that Jace and Isabelle were extraordinary. Normal jobs were never going to fit them.

"Sit there and don't get up," Isabelle ordered, pushing Alec none too gently into his chair.

Alec grabbed his sister's arm when she tried to leave. "Where are you going?"

"I've got stuff to do backstage, chill. Don't overthink. Just sit back and enjoy it like you did with me." She left before Alec could protest further, disappearing into the mass of people just as the lights began to dim again.

There was a loud thump to the right of the stage and the patrons of The Letter began to whistle and cat call. A second later, there was a shadow pushing what seemed to be a large box. A spotlight hit, and it was Jace. He wasn't dressed according to a theme like Isabelle had been. He was simply wearing a white shirt; sleeveless jacket and slacks, which made it difficult for Alec to dissect what exactly his brother was going to be doing.

The box was, by the looks of it, a large suitcase, which Jace continued to push in an overly comedic fashion. He did this until the suitcase was dead centre on the stage before dramatically throwing himself on top of it in exaggerated exhaustion. He then proceeded to roll backwards off the top of the suitcase and sitting on the floor, looking dazed.

It was an odd spectacle, but one that managed to somehow draw Alec in without even thinking too much about it. Maybe it was because it was Jace, or the contents of that damn suitcase, but the dancing around the opening of the case made the mystery of what was inside more intriguing, and Jace played it off really well. He played around with it a bit; tapping the edges and pressing his ear against it like he was going to get a response; attempting to lift it but failing miserably; even standing on top of it; but he didn't do it so much that it got overwrought and boring.

He knew exactly when to try to open it.

Jace's fingers didn't even brush the lock on the case before it exploded, a shower of glitter pouring from the case like a mushroom cloud. The sight of the glitter alone sent the crowd nuts, like it was some sort of trademark they recognised all too well. When it cleared-it took at least thirty seconds for the glitter to settle on the ground, the silence once the applause and yelling faded out almost deafening-there was Jace on the floor again, acting like he'd been knocked over by what was surely-or what Alec hoped had been-a pre-planned explosion. But that wasn't what had his attention anymore.

There, centre stage, standing in one half of the now opened suitcase, was a man Alec could only guess was Magnus Bane.

Alec didn't know what he had expected. He was certainly taken aback. The only conclusion he could come to was that he hadn't expected anything at all but even that didn't explain why he suddenly felt like he'd just been punched in the stomach. In fact, he felt like he had been punched multiple times in the stomach.

Alec had always been able to admire beauty in whatever form it came in. Painting; film; dance; music; he guessed it had something to do with how his parents ensured he was raised more on the creative side of life than the academic. Alec had always had a mutual respect for both. In fact, he dabbled in both on a regular basis before he chose to study medicine.

However, when it came to admiring beauty in the form of actual people, Alec had always switched off. For a while, when he was a preteen, it was because he was in such avid denial of his sexuality. When he came to accept who he was and came out to his family, it became more of a lack of desire to outwardly express what he personally found attractive. Alec didn't know how to cope with attraction or how to deal with it himself, so how could he ever express it to other people?

The thing was, Magnus Bane was more than attractive, he was downright _dazzling._ Maybe it was the copious amounts of glitter, Alec wasn't sure, but that feeling-like he had been socked in the gut-was his body's way of basically saying, _"Whoa."_

"Hello, my darlings!" Magnus immediately declared, his greeting met with instant cheers and more applause. Alec was too stunned to even so much as move his hands to clap. "Good evening! I trust you're all enjoying yourselves tonight?"

The cheers grew louder; slurred responses to Magnus' question that were too loud and in such large numbers none of the answers were at all discernible at all.

"Nice and liquored up, I see," Magnus grinned. He kicked the suitcase shut and casually sat on top, as if he were settling in for a chat, not about to perform in front of a crowd. Alec did notice that some of the singers stopped to talk to the audience between songs. Was that it? Was Magnus a singer, then? "I trust that Maia is looking after you all in that department. I hope you're tipping her well."

"I wish!" Maia's voice laughed from the bar.

"You should always look after whoever is sorting your drinks," Magnus said. He pulled a face and gestured at Jace, who was grumpily (Alec could tell this grumpiness was half an act, half all Jace) brushing glitter out of his hair. "You never know what they're going to put in it."

The audience laughed. Clearly Magnus and Jace were a reoccurring duo. Jace seemed to be the character of the sour, unwilling lackey who aided Magnus' performances. He did it well; Alec was surprised. He had always thought of Jace as a musician, not an actor. Alec wondered if Jace utilised his musical prowess at all on stage or stayed in the background as a humble secondary character every night. Alec hoped not, Jace was a fantastic musician, and it would be a shame if he wasn't given an opportunity to openly play on stage.

Magnus continued talking, his glitter coated skin shimmering under the spotlights. Alec hung on to every word, his eyes pinned to the sparkling man without a single drift. He couldn't recall any of the topics after the show, all he could remember was how easily rapt he had been simply from how Magnus Bane spoke.

The talking was only the beginning. As he previously thought, these intervals of speech were build ups to songs. It was a common trick used in the Cabaret world to keep the audience hooked. Magnus was a singer, just like Isabelle. Except where Isabelle did one song slot, Magnus had quite a few. Probably why it was called Magnus Bane's hour and not Magnus Bane's performance. One thing was for sure, the man had a voice.

Similarly to how Alec was incapable of recalling the topics of discussion Magnus spoke about during his intervals, he also struggled to remember the songs that he sung. All he could hear in his head was the strong voice; the pitch perfect notes that never once faltered; the voice that was so beautiful and different but so similar at the exact same time that Alec had no idea how to fully comprehend it. He hadn't been so encapsulated by one man's talent since the first time he heard Jace play guitar.

It didn't feel like an hour. In fact, it barely felt like ten minutes when Magnus threw glitter into the air for the final time and the curtain was drawn. Alec wondered where his parents found such an enchanting performer. If they had more acts like this one, then no wonder The Scarlet Letter was so popular.

Isabelle joined Alec at his table as the lights were turned up to signal another interval. She had changed into a pair of tight leather pants and boats, her hair free from the hat she had worn on stage. "What did you think?" she asked, straightening in her seat and waving Maia over.

For a moment, Alec said nothing. Then, he asked back, "Where did they find these people?"

"These people?" Isabelle raised her eyebrows. "I'm going to take that as a compliment. Magnus does know how to put on a show, that's for sure."

"Is Jace always just a side character? I thought he was here to play music," said Alec.

Isabelle shrugged. "Not on Saturdays. Mum and Dad made it abundantly clear that we couldn't 'waste' our popular night with experiments." She rolled her eyes.

"Waste? But Jace's music is incredible! Maybe if you coupled it with that guy's vo"-

"The usual, Iz?" Maia asked when she arrived at the table. She was already carrying a jug of purple liquid that had a slice of lime attached to the lip.

"You know it," Isabelle grinned as Maia placed the jug on the table, producing a slim glass and setting it down also. Isabelle looked to Alec with a guilty expression. "I'm a sucker for a jug of Purple Rain."

Alec was less concerned about his sister's drinking options and more confused about what she'd previously told him. Jace not playing his music? Alec thought that was the whole reason his brother chose to stay in L.A instead of returning in France. _'Better opportunities to get my music over there'_ was what he'd said at one point. What was the point in moving to the other side of the world to pursue his music if he wasn't even going to play it?

"What did you think of Magnus Bane, Alec?" Maia asked.

"Huh, what?" Alec replied. He didn't know how to answer without sounding like a fool. The immediate words that came to his head when he thought of the man who he'd just heard sing were _stunning; astounding; incredible_ but he couldn't voice that. No way. "Yeah . . . it was . . . good."

"Good?" Isabelle scoffed. "You're understating. You have that constipated look on your face. You know the one, where you don't know what to say so you understate instead?"

Maia chuckled. Alec glared at Isabelle. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said pointedly.

"Sure, you do," his sister replied. "Don't feel weird about it, Magnus Bane knows how to enchant even the most stuck up of guys."

"It's true," Maia agreed. She pulled a cloth from her apron and wiped some water off the table. "My ex Jordon came here once-the straightest of the straights-and I swear after he saw Magnus Bane perform I thought he was going to tell me that he was gay."

"How . . . nice," Alec said flatly.

"I can introduce you, if you want," Isabelle said excitedly.

"What? No. That's not necessary"-

"He's usually at Camille's table after performances . . ."

"Isabelle, it's fine"-

Isabelle stood up. "There he is! I'll be right back!"

Alec tried to grab Isabelle by the back of her jacket but she was too slippery, easily evading his grasp. "Izzy! Isabelle!" he called after her. She ignored him, disappearing into the crowd in an instant.

Maia chuckled softly and shook her head. "Are you sure you don't want something stronger, now?" she asked, gesturing to his untouched jug of water.

Alec looked to said jug and swallowed hard. Where Isabelle had headed off to, he could possibly need it . . .

"How about this? I'll make you a Caipirinha and you can drink it if you feel the need to," Maia suggested. She smiled. "Trust me, I know how freaky meeting performers can be, especially after just seeing them on stage. It feels like they're part of a completely different world."

"Yeah. Okay. Sure. Do that." Alec wasn't like his sister and even when she disappeared for what would hopefully only be a couple of minutes, he still couldn't keep up a decent conversation. Maia didn't seem to notice his shortness, however, as she winked and disappeared to make a 'Caipirinha', whatever the heck that was.

Why was he so anxious about Isabelle bringing this Magnus guy over? He was just a guy. An extremely awing guy. An extremely awing guy with an astounding ability to hypnotise with his voice alone. An extremely awing guy with an astounding ability to hypnotise with his voice alone and who had made Alec felt like he'd been socked with that baseball bat in Primary Three again merely upon first sight.

" _Merde_ ," Alec cursed, running a hand through his hair.

"He's very socially inept so forgive him if he acts at all strange"-

"Say no more, I've always found introverts interesting projects."

Isabelle rounded the table again, her arm intertwined in Magnus Bane's as if they were a couple taking a casual stroll. Alec, being his awkward self, could only stare. "Alec, this is Magnus Bane. Magnus, this is my big brother Alexander," Isabelle introduced.

"Pleasure," Magnus grinned, outstretching his hand.

"Eh, ah, the pleasure is, ah, all mine," Alec replied, shaking the singer's hand. "And its Alec."

"Oh, I forgot that you Lightwoods were French," Magnus purred, letting his hand linger in Alec's for a moment. "It's always been my favourite language, and accent, of course." He winked, and Alec felt like he'd been whacked with that stupid baseball bat again.

"Merci," Isabelle teased, pouring herself a glass of Purple Rain. Instead of taking it herself, she sat down and shoved it into Alec's hand. Was there some sort of conspiracy going on that he wasn't aware of to get him drunk or something?

Magnus took the spare seat. God, he was still sparkling. Alec wondered how long it would take to remove so much glitter from one's skin. Surely it was difficult. Hodge once bought Isabelle a hairbrush covered in glitter when they were children and Alec always found pieces of it in the oddest of places. He couldn't imagine where Magnus would be finding specks of glitter . . .

"I've always wanted to visit Paris," Magnus said, threading his fingers together and resting his chin on top. His golden eyes shone in the dimly lit room and Alec couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye. "The city of love. Enticing, no?"

"Sort of. Living there kind of takes away the charm," Isabelle admitted. "Although, I must admit, the Eiffel Tower can turn any bore into a hopeless romantic. Just never bend down to tie your shoelaces when on a date there with your girlfriend." Isabelle hissed through her teeth. "Things can get mega awkward mega fast."

Alec glanced at his sister out of the corner of his eye. "Do you know this from experience?"

"Of course, not." Isabelle smirked. "Most men who get on their knees in front of me are looking for something else."

"Okay, too much information!" Alec groaned, covering his face with his hand in horror.

Maia returned to the table and placed a short, wide glass in front of Alec. The liquid inside was transparent and had limes floating around inside it. Isabelle gasped. "What are you doing with my Purple Rain if you got a drink of your own?!" she exclaimed, snatching her glass back off Alec.

"I'd like to point out that you gave me this, I had no say in the matter," Alec answered. He took a tester sip of the Caipirinha and cringed at how it burned its way down his throat.

"So, _Alexander,_ what do you do?" Magnus asked.

Alec didn't even need to be looking at the singer for his voice to send a shiver down his spine. "I'm, uh, studying medicine back home," he said.

"Alec is the brains," Isabelle emphasized.

Magnus nodded. "So, you're more into the intellectual sides of things?"

Alec rubbed the back of his neck. "Sort of. I've just sort of always been fascinated by medicine, that's all." He frowned. "I still adore the arts, though." He hated the assumption that just because he was studying to be a doctor it meant that he wasn't like his siblings, or his ancestors. That because he was trying to get his doctorate he clearly didn't have an appreciation of the Lightwood history and was incapable of admiring the arts in the same way.

"Well, that's not surprising. You are still a Lightwood," Magnus chuckled. "Do you perform?"

"No"-

"He sings." God, why did Isabelle have to be here? "Or sung. Past tense. Mum and Dad tried to get him on board when he left High School like they did me and Jace. He said, 'nah, I wanna be a Doctor'." Isabelle smirked over the lip of her glass.

Magnus whistled "Wow, you turned down Maryse and Robert? How are you still alive?"

Alec shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe I'm an idiot."

A cool hand captured his chin and suddenly he found himself staring into the very eyes he had been trying to avoid out of fear of acting like a moron in front of them. "You were firm in your desire to follow your passion. That's not idiotic, trust me, my dear," said Magnus, his voice almost scolding.

"Have you met my parents?" Alec asked lightly.

"Oh yes, many times. If it weren't for them I wouldn't be here right now. I can't say for sure if that's a good thing or not." Magnus smiled. "I know how bloody terrifying the pair of them are. Especially Maryse." He pretended to shiver. "A stare that could make the Devil's army itself turn on its heels and run away."

Alec's voice dried up in his throat as he realised that their faces were only inches apart. Where was Isabelle? Usually she wouldn't let a moment go without adding her input! He wanted to break the trance, but another part of him didn't want to break the grip Magnus's finger and thumb had on his chin. His heart battered inside his chest and Magnus smirked. Fuck, could he _hear_ it? Was that possible?!

"Y'know, I've always loved blue eyes on black haired boys," Magnus commented, eyes sparkling with intrigue. "It's my favourite combination."

Alec laughed anxiously. "Coincidence," was the only word that came out of his mouth.

This made Magnus chuckle. "I don't believe in coincidence, darling."

Alec opened his mouth to say something else, but a different voice came out in its place. A voice that was neither his, Magnus', or even Isabelle's.

 _"Magnus!"_

Magnus rolled his eyes and let his hand fall from Alec's face. Even Isabelle groaned. Shit, Alec forgot she was even here. He looked around at her in alarm and she winked at him, a cheeky grin on her face that said, _'Don't think I cast a blind eye to that!'_

A blonde lady appeared at the table. She was dressed in a blood red dress, the garment a shocking contrast to her pale white skin. Alec immediately noticed the scarlet letter pin stuck to the chest of the garment. "Magnus," she growled, "how is this five minutes?"

Magnus gracefully slid from his seat. "Has it been more than five minutes? Oh, how could that have possibly happened? The time must have escaped me," he said sarcastically. "Do forgive me, my dear. You know how I can't pass up interesting company."

"More like you can't pass up a blue-eyed boy," the blonde woman snarled.

Magnus looked at Alec, feigning shock. "His eyes are blue? Well, dear lord, I didn't notice!"

"Alec, that's Camille," Isabelle introduced gruffly. "She's one of The Scarlet Letter's investors."

"I'd be careful with your tone, Lightwood. I can drop my investment like that," Camille clicked her fingers.

"Uh-huh." Isabelle flicked the lime off her glass, more interested in where it landed on the table than she was in Camille's threat. Alec didn't need to question his sister's attitude. He'd barely been in Camille's presence a full minute and he already wasn't fond of her. Blue-eyed boys? Where did she get off talking about someone she didn't even know about like that?

"My greatest apologies, my dear," Magnus said, placing his hands on Camille's shoulders and steering her away. "Let's go back to our table, shall we?" He beamed at Alec and Isabelle. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Alexander. I'll talk to you again soon, Isabelle, I'm sure."

As Magnus and Camille vanished into the crowd, Alec looked back to his sister and asked, "What's her problem?"

"Who? Camille? I think she was born with a stick in her ass," Isabelle muttered.

"Why did you speak to one of The Letter's investors like that? She threatened to drop her investment so quickly, what if she had done?"

Isabelle snorted. "Won't happen. Not while Magnus still works here."

Alec's stomach flipped. "Are they . . . ?"

A pause. Isabelle shrugged and downed some of her drink. "Who knows," she finally said, disappointing Alec with her answer. "What _I_ want to talk about is that moment you two just had. What was _that?_ "

Alec swallowed, cradling his drink in his hands. "I don't know what you're talking about . . ."

"Bullshit. Magnus was giving sex eyes even the most naïve of children could recognise."

"Was he? I didn't notice . . ."

"You're so frickin' repressed." Isabelle leaned forward in her seat. "I never thought to ask. Has there been anyone . . . ? Back home, I mean?"

Alec laughed. The thought of him dating was as amusing as his sister's assumption that Magnus had been giving him sex eyes when they had clearly just been talking. He shook his head. "No, no one."

His sister sighed and leaned back in her seat. "You never talk about your personal life with me."

"That's because there's not a personal life to talk about."

"Sure." Isabelle downed the rest of her drink and stood up. "I need the bathroom. Stay put, the next show will be on again soon."

Alec sighed and rubbed a tired hand over his face. He was used to staying up to all hours to study, but this was a different calibre of late night. He had never been one for the party life. It seemed he was going to have to get used to it while he was in L.A, if he wanted to spend time with his family, that was.

Looking over his shoulder, Alec saw Jace through the crowd at the back of the room. His brother was sitting with Clary on a ledge in the wall. Their hands were sitting on top of each other and their gaze wouldn't break off one another. Alec's stomach churned and he looked away.

Why had he come here? It was beginning to feel like a big mistake.

 **A/N: I hope it was worth the wait! Let me know what you think! :)**

 **Can you believe that Season 2 of Shadowhunters is barely a month away now? It doesn't feel like nearly a year since Season 1 premiered!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The last memory Alec had of his mother was when she drove him to school about a week before she and his father left for America. There wasn't anything particular about the car ride. It had just been . . . a car ride. Quiet . . . almost tense, really. Alec had never felt entirely comfortable around his mother because he never seemed capable of saying the right thing to her. It didn't help that he had mentioned wanting to study science instead of music when it came to choosing his subjects. He still had years before he was going to choose his subjects at the time, and he had only mentioned it in passing, but Alec distinctly remembered it rubbing his mother the wrong way.

Maryse had always been stern, even when Alec was a child. He would have been extremely surprised if he had arrived at The Scarlet Letter to hear its patrons raving about the carefree and wild Maryse Lightwood. It was in her nature the same way music and performance ran through the veins of the Lightwoods like blood. Maryse wasn't Lightwood by blood, she married into the family, however she had adapted to their ways extremely well and for as long as Alec could remember she had been planning the construction of The Scarlet Letter, even when he was no more than two years old.

It had nearly been a decade since he'd seen his parents. According to Isabelle, both of them were pretty much as he recalled. Strict; uptight; stern. "Type the word 'boring' into a thesaurus and they're every alternate word that will come up," was what she had said. Despite this, Alec was extremely apprehensive about meeting them again after so long. He had an irrational fear of disappointing them, since it seemed to be a consistent theme ever since he was a kid.

"Who cares what they think?" Isabelle declared as they walked through the streets of LA the next morning, on route to the café where they were going to have brunch with Maryse and Robert.

"Yeah, they're always grumpy," Jace agreed, "so why exhaust yourself trying to please them when it's impossible?"

"I don't know, maybe the fact that I'd like them to believe I haven't wasted the past decade of my life?" Alec responded.

"Even if they did think that, we know you haven't," said Isabelle. "More importantly _you_ know that you haven't."

Alec ran a tired hand through his hair. He hadn't slept too well on the sofa of Isabelle's apartment. More due to anxiety over this morning than anything else. He wanted it out of the way, but he knew he couldn't just barge into the café and declare to his parents that he was gay, despite his desperation to have it out in the open already.

"I need to come out to them this morning," Alec muttered.

Isabelle looked at Alec curiously. "You don't _need_ to do anything," she told him. "They don't have a right to know anything about your life."

"To be fair, they lost the right to know anything when they left us with Hodge," Jace added.

"No, no, no you're misunderstanding. I want them to know. I can't hide it anymore," Alec insisted. "I'm just worried about how they'll react . . ."

Isabelle blew a raspberry. "So, you want to shag boys, who cares? _I_ shag boys, I don't hear them complaining about it."

Jace snorted. "Somehow, I don't think that's the same, Iz." He chuckled. "Besides, they _do_ complain, you just ignore them."

Alec couldn't find the humour in his sister's words. In fact, the thought of her putting it that way in front of their parents made him feel very faint. He hated the word shag, it reminded him of those ugly white rugs and the tiny plastic bracelets that were a fad in his High School for a year. "It would be nice for them to accept at least one part of my life," he said, almost to himself.

Jace clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't sweat it, bro. We're here. Think of us as your backup."

"Exactly," Isabelle beamed. "I'm not afraid of my parents. I never was."

Alec was partially comforted by the presence of his siblings. He hadn't feared them knowing about his sexuality in the same way he feared his parents. Okay, so he was still worried about Jace discovering his confusing feelings for him, but Alec had never expected Jace to be the sort to think, 'What? He's gay? Well fuck he must fancy _me_ then because _I'm_ a guy!' And he wasn't. Jace was blissfully unaware about anything besides the fact that Alec had known he was gay since he was a teenager.

The café they were to meet their parents at wasn't far from Isabelle's apartment, but looked painfully upper class. Alec inwardly cursed as they approached the entrance, wishing he had known so he had put something _other_ than his stained converses on. Brunch in his head meant a small greasy spoon type place with regular patrons and a chef who looked like he hadn't had a bath since 1992. Not a regal locale with a striped canopy outside and violin music inside.

"You could have warned me," said Alec. "I wouldn't have"-

"What?" Isabelle demanded to know. "Alec, you're a walking ragamuffin. You don't have a single decent outfit in your wardrobe."

"I would have at least put on shoes that weren't stained!"

"Awk, stop your whinging, all your shoes are stained."

Alec knew he was being paranoid, but as soon as he set foot inside the café it felt like all eyes turned in their direction. It's an instinctual reaction that most people had to look in the direction of a door being opened. Alec knew that even he did it, but it didn't ease the fact that he'd just noticed that this joint was carpeted with _white carpet_ and they had just been discussing the fact that he was wearing stained shoes outside. Angel, this situation was so far from his comfort zone that Alec was beginning to doubt the existence of a comfort zone in the first place.

The patrons of the place-Alec forgot to check what the name was on the way in-seemed to be of a special elite. Not the type of higher class citizens who flaunted their status through pearl necklaces and solid gold cutlery. This brand of elite seemed to be more on the business end. Everyone looked like they had attended or were about to attend to a meeting; all crisp edged suits and shiny leather suitcases. Every couple of tables someone was on a blackberry; or a laptop; or a Bluetooth, all wearing stern expressions and looking important.

Yeah. This was definitely a place Alec could see his mother being comfortable in.

And, as usual, where ever a member of his family felt comfortable, Alec immediately felt uncomfortable.

Seeing his mother for the first time after so long was odd, to say the least. Maryse had not changed, spare a few wrinkles and strands of greying hair. Alec almost wondered if they'd kept her in some sort of cryogenic sleep since she left France and had only just woken her up that morning.

"Mère?"

When Maryse looked up from her phone and saw her children, she smiled. She didn't stand, nor did she seem at all excited about finally seeing her eldest son after so long. Not that Alec had expected some sort of sappy reunion. In fact, he probably would have been more surprised if his mother had jumped to her feet with amazement and hugged him while gushing about how much he'd been missed. That just wouldn't have been his mother at all.

"Alexander, mon fils, how are you?" was the first thing Maryse said to him. She was still smiling, which was enough for Alec to feel happy with himself. At least his stained converses weren't the main topic in his brain anymore . . . "I trust your flight here was satisfactory?"

"Uh, yeah, it was good. Long and a bit tedious, but nothing to really complain about." Alec had hated his flight over but when someone asks how your flight was, they aren't asking for a minute by minute rundown of the eleven-and-a-half-hour journey where some woman's child wouldn't stop staring at you and kept spilling their sweets all over the floor.

"It's a long overdue trip," Maryse said lightly. She almost sounded like she was scolding him for not coming sooner.

"Well . . . you know, I can't get behind in my studies," Alec shrugged.

Isabelle, who had already slid into an empty seat at the table and was applying her makeup again with the aid of a compact, snorted softly and said, "I'd take any opportunity to ditch school for a while." She smiled at her reflection and pushed her lips together to make sure her lipstick was applied correctly. "Where's Dad anyway?"

Maryse looked mildly miffed simply by Isabelle's presence at the table. "Must you do that at the table?" she asked. "And call your father by his proper name, he's your Père, don't forget your roots."

Jace couldn't help laughing at that. He had seated himself across from Isabelle and, despite the professional environment surrounding him, looked like a perfect picture of casual. Slumped in his seat, fingers threaded on top of his stomach, he almost looked like he was preparing himself to take a nap in the chair.

"Our roots?" Isabelle cocked her head in faux confusion. "Oh, you mean that thing you've only just remembered because Alec's here and his accent is as thick as a river of shit? I see." She beamed at their glowering mother with no fear. "Je m'excuse mère!"

"How long did it take for your accents to fade anyways?" Alec asked curiously, finally deciding that he was allowed to sit down too.

"Isabelle's was gone within months," Maryse immediately said, casting a shady glance at Isabelle as if she could have done something to prevent it.

"I watched a lot of American television back home and had already started picking up the basic lingo," Isabelle shrugged. "Once surrounded by people who spoke that way it just sort of melted away. I don't care. Who does, really? It's just how your voice sounds."

"It's your heritage," Maryse said sharply.

"Dad's heritage," Jace pointed out. "Weren't your grandparents from Ireland?"

"Yes, well, just because it's your father's heritage doesn't mean it shouldn't be respected," was Maryse's answer.

Alec immediately noticed how she didn't pick at every word that came out of Jace's mouth like she seemed to have a habit of doing to Isabelle. Isabelle didn't seem wholly bothered by it, but from the way she her fingernails tapped against the table with slight impatience, Alec knew that his sister noticed as well.

Despite not being her son by blood, Jace had always been the apple of Maryse's eye. Jace was the golden child, in her eyes he could practically do no wrong. Alec and Isabelle used to joke when they were younger that they hadn't come out the way Maryse had wanted so she adopted Jace; her ideal son. Kind of like a test tube baby except a lot less messy and no need for another pregnancy.

Of course, this wasn't the case. Jace's birth parents had been close friends with Maryse and Robert. Celine, his mother, died during child birth and Stephen, his father, stricken with grief, got drunk and crashed his car. Mourning the loss of their friends, Maryse and Robert took Jace and raised him as their own since there were no legal guardians to be heard of. It was very tragic what had happened, but Jace was never bothered by it. He always told Alec that since he never knew his parents, he didn't see the use in draining his energy mourning them.

It was also no secret to any of them that Maryse sort of adopted their father Robert's heritage and would have a tendency to act like it was her heritage too. Alec knew she was the driving force behind the Scarlet Letter and she had to convince Robert that the fact that his ancestors worked at the original Moulin Rouge before it burned down was something to be commemorated in some way. Despite being of Irish origin, Maryse had a deeper fascination in the Lightwoods' French roots than Robert himself.

"Where is Dad?" Isabelle asked again, this time making a point of saying Dad instead of Père.

"Your father is finalising the details of the deal we enclosed last night with Mr Morgenstern," Maryse answered tightly, also noticing Isabelle's rebellious tone. The waitress came for their order. Alec just asked for a coffee. He was never a big morning eater. Once she was gone again, Maryse pointedly added, "Yes, we enclosed the deal by the way, since you didn't ask."

"Shit, that's right," said Isabelle, smacking her forehead sarcastically. "Did you enclose the deal with Mr Morgenstern, Mother?"

Maryse ignored Isabelle and Jace's snickering, focusing her attention on Alec. Her blue eyes felt like a spotlight shining solely on him. Like he was on Mastermind and was about to answer a bunch of questions on his chosen subject. "So, Alec, how are your studies going?"

Boy, did this question put him on the spot. On the outside, it seemed like a common, general question that any parent would ask their child. However, Alec knew full well how his mother felt about him studying medicine. As awful as it sounded, he knew that his mother wanted him to say that it was going horribly. That he wasn't able to keep up with his classes and he was struggling to meet deadlines and he was failing miserably and regretted not pursing something more creative like art or music.

But that just wasn't the case.

Alec adored the arts, of course he did, he had been raised with an appreciation of the arts. He knew how to play many instruments; he went to ballet lessons with his siblings as a kid; he could sing; and he could paint. He could not deny that he had that flare for the creative medium, just like the Lightwood tradition dictated. But he also couldn't deny how much enjoy learning. That the reason he picked up all those instruments so easily was because he loved dissecting the technical aspect as well as the creative. That he would sometimes sit in his room and look deeper into the numerical value of the beats in his dance routines. That he used to research how high or low a person could sing and how paint was manufactured. There was a more mechanical side to his intellect. One he couldn't control but loved to investigate.

That's how he ended up studying science and foreign languages instead of music and art and, against his mother's wishes, chose to pursue medicine. And Alec was enjoying his studies so much. Sure, he was antisocial and didn't have many friends; the work was hard and the deadlines could be tough to meet; but he was working hard, and he was enjoying working hard. The worst of it all was that he didn't know if he could tell Maryse this. He didn't know how she would react to knowing that his life wasn't falling apart because he chose to go against the Lightwood flow.

"They're . . . good," Alec settled with saying.

Both of his siblings exchanged a look. He didn't know what the look meant but he could assume that it had something to do with the juxtaposition of enthusiasm between when they asked him about his studies and when Maryse did.

"Good?" Maryse's eyebrows shot to her hairline. Alec swallowed and nodded. "Is that it? How are you testing?"

"Um, I'm testing well," Alec sheepishly admitted.

"I'm going to step in here as translator," Jace suddenly intervened. "What Alec is _trying_ to say is that he is slaying his tests and is having a bitching time studying."

If Maryse was miffed by this, she hid it well. "Well, that's good. Lightwoods write success stories, not failure accounts." She glanced at her phone screen and straightened her cutlery. "So, have you met any nice girls during your classes?"

Alec's heart flipped. Shit, this was it. This was the window to tell her. Isabelle straightened in her seat, as if preparing for a fight. Alec thought she was overreacting. Sure, he was very nervous about this due to his mother's natural severity, but he didn't think she would overreact. Or at least he hoped she wouldn't . . .

"About that, Mère," Alec said, swallowing what felt like a rock in his throat, "I actually need to tell you something . . ."

"Oh?" Maryse's phone lit up and she picked it up. "Go on then."

Maryse's attention was now on her mobile as she began texting someone, and Alec faltered. He didn't know whether she was listening or not. He glanced to Isabelle helplessly, and she said, "Hey, Mum, you listening?"

"Yes, yes, I'm just texting your father."

"Can it wait a minute?" asked Jace.

"No, it's about the Morgenstern deal, of course it can't."

"It'll only take a minute," said Isabelle, irritation clear in her voice.

"Well then it can wait a minute, can't it?" Maryse's voice matched Isabelle's in volume and level of agitation.

Alec brushed his hair back from his face with the palm of his hand, his heart pounding against his ribcage. "Mère . . ." he said, his voice pleading as he fought the nervous nausea that was broiling through his stomach.

"What? Just spit it out boy," Maryse said sharply.

"Mon dieu, Maman, can't you put that thing down?!" snapped Isabelle.

" _Mum, I'm gay_ ," Alec blurted out.

Maryse's fingers, which had been flying over her keypad, froze. It was almost like she had been frozen in time, she didn't even blink. Alec couldn't breathe for a moment, but immediately made up for it by filling in the silence.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have just blurted it like that, everyone was just talking over each other and I wanted it out of the way. I understand that this is a lot to take in but I've known for a long time now but you and Pere were here and I was there so I couldn't tell you sooner but I promise I'm the same person and me being this way doesn't change anything about me and"-

"Alec, breathe," said Jace.

Almost automatically, Alec did as instructed and sucked in a massive breath. He watched his mother carefully as she slowly lifted her face to stare at him again. He didn't know how to decipher her expression. It was so placid he couldn't tell if she was happy or sad. "Are you dating anyone?" was the first thing she asked.

Slightly taken aback, Alec stammered, "Ah, n-no, not at the mo-moment."

Maryse put her phone on the table and sighed. "I see. Well, this is sudden. However, I only have myself to blame for its suddenness. It's not your fault your father and I haven't been in regular contact with you to have known sooner."

"But it's good," Isabelle prompted, expecting their mother to add that onto the end of her own sentence.

"Very sudden," Maryse simply said.

Alec relaxed a little. Isabelle didn't look too happy with their mother's response but Alec saw it as a success. She didn't fly off the handle or disown him as her son, Alec could handle her pondering the suddenness of the news. Maybe he had had very low standards for this revelation due to horror stories he'd read on the internet about coming out to parents but he was glad for the response he got.

Then again, his father didn't know yet.

"Isn't Mr Morgenstern's son like bi or something?" asked Jace.

"He's gay," Isabelle answered. "Sure, Simon's pansexual, too." Isabelle looked to Alec and clarified. "He's one of our investors." Isabelle glanced at her mother, who was slowly-almost robotically-returning to her mobile. "We really should be calling him by his professional name but I know Simon too well by this point to be able to call him Mr Lewis and take it seriously." She snickered at the very thought.

Alec couldn't take his eyes off his mother, whose fingers were flying across the keypad at a faster pace than they had done before. A horrifying thought came to mind. "Maman, please don't tell Papa before I get a chance to," he said, his voice so quiet and soft he barely heard it himself.

Maryse tapped the 'send' arrow on whatever message she was writing and shrugged. "Whatever you wish, mon filis," she sighed.

Alec's previous comfort dissolved a bit. He didn't know if he was overreacting or not, but he could swear that there was an almost resigned undertone to her voice. Like she wasn't happy anymore but didn't have much word on the matter. Jace seemed to notice this as well, his gaze ping ponging between their mother and Alec's distraught expression.

Their food came and Alec immediately took a sip of his coffee, feeling like a gigantic weight had been suddenly dropped onto his shoulders. He needed something to lighten the load. Deciding to make her brother feel better, Isabelle nudged his arm and added, "Magnus is bisexual, y'know."

Even the mere mention of the glittery performer from the previous night made Alec's heart stutter. He looked at his sister with mild alarm and stuttered, "S-so?"

"Don't stupid, I know how you guys were looking at each other last night," Isabelle teased as she tucked into her pancakes.

"I was not looking at anyone any particular way!" Alec adamantly protested. Had he? Had he somehow made his fascination with Magnus Bane obvious? Surely not! The thought of the entire world being able to pick up on it made him feel extremely horrified and very, very embarrassed.

"Who are we talking about?" asked Jace, mouth already slightly greasy from his bacon sandwich.

"Last night! Remember it was Alec's first time at the Letter"-

"What did you think?" Maryse interrupted. Isabelle's nostrils flared, irritated at getting cut off.

Glad to discuss something besides the current topic, Alec said, "I thought it was great. Not really my scene but no crowded place really is. Isabelle and Jace's shows were amazing, and even the staff were lovely. It's no surprise how it has reached the popularity that it has."

Seeming to have forgotten what had previously irked her about Alec's coming out, Maryse preened. Like every compliment about The Scarlet Letter stroked her ego in one way or another. Again, Alec was glad. It was good to know he wasn't a complete fuck up and could still say the right thing to his mother without pissing her off.

"This is all well and good but I want to know who Alec was flirting with," Jace intercepted, referring to where Isabelle got interrupted.

"I wasn't flirting with anyone!" Alec snapped, blushing horrifically.

"More like Magnus was flirting with him, I saw it myself," Isabelle beamed, almost like she was proud of Alec for simply having an interaction with a male besides Jace at all.

"Who? Magnus _Bane_?"

Maryse looked sharply at Alec, despite it having been Jace who spoke. "Alexander Gideon Lightwood, Magnus Bane was not flirting with you, was he?"

Surprised by her stern tone and the use of his full name, Alec slowly shook his head. No words would come to his mouth.

"Good. He's off limits. He's with Camille Belcourt, one of our investors." Alec felt an unexplained sinking feeling in his stomach at the news of this. Maryse glared at Isabelle. "How dare you encourage such a thing, you know what could be at stake."

Isabelle's face grew incredibly pinched but she didn't comment, falling into unhappy silence and finishing her brunch. Even Jace didn't say anything, which was surprising for Jace since he usually always had some sort of smart ass remark up his sleeve. It was very out of character for the both of them, but Alec's brain was too far away to focus on that.

Of course, someone like Magnus would be taken. Alec just couldn't understand why he would be taken by such a horrible person that was the woman who came to their table the previous night and acted like such a snob. Magnus seemed better than that. From what Alec had gathered of him anyways. Maybe he was thinking too much into it. Plenty of fish in the sea and all that, this shouldn't bother him so much.

Trust Alec to desire the fish that was already promised to someone else.

 **A/N: Happy Belated New Year everyone! I wish you all a happy, healthy 2017 full of opportunity and joy ^_^**

 **Anyone else see the first episode of Shadowhunters Season 2? Oh my god, I'm so excited for this Season! Episode one was so good I can't wait for next week! Please feel free to PM me if you want to squeal along with me about it! :D**

 **Please R &R with your thoughts on this chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

On weekdays, the Scarlet Letter doubled up as a day bar. People would come in for a quiet drink in a peaceful setting. Not as many people as there were on weekends when there were performances, but Alec was kind of glad for that. The Letter was where he would most likely be spending most of his time during his trip here and he didn't know if he could cope with it being constantly full.

Isabelle worked as a waitress at the Letter when she wasn't performing, bringing drinks to people at their tables, while Jace was a cleaner. Alec admired how hard they were working. Performing wasn't an easy job to keep and this was clear through how his siblings had to have secondary jobs-albeit, at the same establishment, but they were secondary jobs all the same-to sustain themselves. Sure, they didn't need qualifications or generic education for their work, but that meant nothing in terms of desire to work and determination to achieve. And Isabelle and Jace had both of these things in abundance.

Alec sat at a table on his own, translating some scripts for an online client. To earn money for himself to live over in France on his own, he took to putting his foreign language studies to good use by offering translation services. He translated French; Spanish; German; and Indonesian to English and vice versa. The script he was currently working on was for an American client who lived in Mississippi who needed a movie script translated to Spanish for one of their actors. They didn't have time to do it themselves due to production schedules so they found Alec's Pateron when looking for cheap translators. He enjoyed the work, and it fit well for him because he could work it around his classes and personal schedule.

There were hundreds of pages spread around on his table, full of scribbles and notes on different ways different phrases could be translated, and a multitude of different coloured pens lay by his elbow so that he could highlight particular words for particular reasons. Alec maybe did too much for the amount that he was paid, but this was partly not for the work, it was for the aid he knew he was providing. He knew what it was like to feel isolated for not understanding what was being said to him. Tourists in Paris were particularly aggressive if you couldn't understand what they were trying to say, as if English was supposed to be the universal language that everyone had to learn out of courtesy.

Where did the impression that English was the most popular language come from anyway? The most common language was Chinese, for goodness sake.

"God, even when you're on holiday, you're working," Isabelle commented. She stopped beside Alec's table, propping the drink tray against her hip as she watched her brother write.

"Bills to pay, Izzy," Alec reminded her. "Remember what Mum and Dad said when I told them I wanted to study medicine?"

Isabelle nodded ruefully. "Pay your own way," she recalled.

"Pay your own way," Alec sighed. "We're not paying for you to become a sheep."

Isabelle snorted. "Ah, yes. Because you know how learning to save the lives of hundreds makes you a sheep." She grabbed Alec's arm and demanded, "Why are you conforming Alec?! What's wrong with you?! How dare you try to be a hero?!"

Alec snickered at his sister's silliness. "I'm not trying to be a hero," he told her.

"Well, yeah, you are." Isabelle flipped the tray and caught it single handedly. "All doctors are heroes, whether they want to be or not." The way she put it, how she described it like the title was forced upon people, made Alec cringe. Isabelle noticed this and chuckled. "What are you translating anyway?"

"A script writer in Mississippi needs me to translate their movie script to Spanish for one of their actors," Alec explained, gesturing at the mess of papers around the table.

"What's the movie about?" Isabelle asked, picking up one of the pages and frowning at the, to her, undecipherable mass that was the Spanish words.

"Your usual run-of-the-mill rom com." Alec scratched the back of his head with a grimace. "I have an awful feeling the characters are going to have sex and I'm going to have to translate it."

Isabelle grinned cheekily. "Oooh si, si, _siiii_!" she teased.

"Don't mock with what you don't understand," Alec lightly reprimanded, taking the paper back from her. "Foreign languages are beautiful, don't mock them." He was slightly tense because he didn't think the characters were going to have intercourse, he just knew it from the direction the plot had taken. And let's just say from what he knew of the protagonists thus far, it was certainly not going to be of the vanilla ice cream variety.

"Uh-oh, struck a nerve!" Isabelle sang. She glanced around and sighed. "Better get back to it. God knows Mum likes to find any excuse to dock my pay. I shan't keep you any longer! Adios, mi amigo!"

Alec ran a hand through his hair and got back to his work. He'd been working on this piece for a couple of weeks now; the director wanted it for the end of the month. It was easier for his work if he was able to get engrossed in the story and its characters, but the protagonist was bland and the major plotline was your run-of-the-mill misunderstanding spiel. He'd usually be able to get this kind of thing done in two weeks tops, but due to his disinterest in the story being told it was extremely difficult.

Alec intended to learn more languages if he ever found the spare time. When he was eight years old, a tourist had tried to ask him where the Louvre was but he didn't understand what they were saying because he hadn't learned English yet, so the tourist got frustrated and said something, if he recalled, along the lines of ' _tell your parents to teach you the dominant language_ '. When he went home and told his parents, they decided to teach Alec, and his siblings, English for the sake of not getting harassed by another tourist.

Alec enjoyed every second of learning the English language. He just found the fact that everyone was different in varying ways so fascinating. People communicated with their own people in their own way, right down to mannerisms of punctuation of the written word. Before he died, he intended to learn at least five more languages. He was thinking of learning Japanese next, because their written word was so elegant and interesting, he wanted to know what it all meant.

"What is this?" Alec froze as a heavily ringed hand reached over his shoulder and picked up one of the pages he wasn't working on and examined it. "Is this Spanish?"

"Uh, y-yeah," Alec stammered, internally cursing at himself for stammering like a fool.

"Is this like a hobby or something?" Magnus moved around the table, tapping his ringed fingers along the mess of papers lying across it.

"It's my part-time job." Alec shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. It most likely wasn't working. When his eyes connected with the beautiful performer, he felt his heart skip a beat. God, how was it possible for one man to be so enticing?

"You have a part-time job while studying medicine?" Magnus looked baffled. "Do you ever have free time?"

Alec shrugged again. "I have to provide for myself."

Magnus pursed his lips. He didn't ask why Alec's parents didn't support him financially. Maybe it seemed like too personal a question, but whatever it was, he switched the topic. "What other languages do you know? Judging by your delightful accent, I'm going to guess Spanish and English aren't the only lingos you can wrap your tongue around."

 _Delightful? Tongue? Around?!_ Alec stared at Magnus for a moment, captured by the way the taller man's eyes sparkled like tiny stars in his pupils. "Those aren't my native languages, French is." Alec flushed before muttering, "obviously." He picked up his pencil to keep his fingers occupied as he continued to explain, "I also speak German and Indonesian. I studied foreign languages for a while."

"Indonesian?" Magnus rose his eyebrows. "Berapa lama yang membawa Anda?"

 _How long did that take you?_ Alec was taken aback when Magnus spoke the language so smoothly. "Ah, Setahun dan sedikit. Berikan atau ambil," he answered. Well, more like stammered. Alec didn't think Magnus' eyes could get any brighter, but in that moment, they did. "You speak it, too?"

"You're not the only person who hails from elsewhere." Magnus winked, and Alec was sure that all oxygen had gotten sucked out of the room. He couldn't help it. Alec adored different languages, so hearing this already insanely attractive man speak Indonesian and then confirm that it was his mother language was impossibly sexy.

Magnus squinted curiously. "Are you fluent in all of it?"

Alec slowly nodded, almost like he was under a spell of some sort. Magnus' spell.

"That's impressive. Isabelle was right when she said you were the brains."

Alec shrugged (for the third time, he painfully noted) and said, "We're all the brains. Just in different ways."

Magnus continued to examine the paper and Alec almost wondered if he understood Spanish himself. Alec prayed that this wasn't the case, because the script was rapidly approaching this sex scene he'd predicted and the characters were currently discussing what they'd do to one another in what Alec supposed was supposed to be a means of building sexual tension. Alec didn't know if he just wasn't feeling it because he wasn't straight but the two protagonists talking about how they were planning to fuck each other (with feeling!) did nothing for his interest in the plot.

"So how does this all work?" Thankfully, it seemed that Indonesian was as far as the magnificent performers language talent stretched. If his unfazed attitude at the piece of paper he was reading was anything to go by anyways.

Magnus pulled out a chair and sat beside Alec at the table, the glitter in his hair sparkling as a sun beam filtering through a nearby window hit him perfectly. He surprised Alec with his interest in his translations. It wasn't exactly the most fascinating of jobs.

"I, uh, have a profile offering translation services," Alec shrugged. "Most people find me when they're looking for cheap translations."

"Does it work?" Magnus asked. "I mean, do you get what you need from doing this?"

Alec shrugged. What number of times was he at now? Four? Why was he such an awkward idiot? "Yeah, I get by," he vaguely answered. Magnus was intently examining the page he was holding, almost as if he actually could understand what was written and was reading with avid interest. The thought making Alec panic, he quickly asked, "What about you? Are you performing tonight?"

"Nah." Magnus put Alec's nerves to rest by finally putting the page down. "This is what we call a Sloth Day. There's no real performances on weekdays. Local bands just come in to play in the evenings for ambiance."

"Why hang around here, then? Surely it's like hanging around your workplace all the time?" Alec asked.

Magnus shrugged, the strap of his tank top slipping down his shoulder slightly. "I like The Letter. It's a home away from home for me. Besides, once you've lived here for as long as I have, the novelty of the city begins to wear off." The performer sighed. "Sometimes I really miss Brooklyn."

"You lived in New York?"

"I did some Cabaret there for a while. Nothing like my gig here, mind you."

God, how could one man be so fascinating? Hails from Indonesia but has spent a good portion of his life in New York-Brooklyn, in particular-and now works in The Scarlet Letter in LA. Magnus sure knew how to make his way around. Alec may have been able to speak multiple languages but he never had the experience that came alongside actually visiting different countries and getting to learn their cultures. It was on his to-do list but considering his education and how he was struggling to even pay his rent, it seemed like a far-off wish at this point.

Alec's eyes drifted around the room. Maryse was sitting at a table in the corner of the room, discussing business with two other people. She made it clear that she didn't want to be disturbed. Besides Isabelle and Maia chatting at the bar, there were only a few patrons currently in The Letter, presumably for a quiet drink. No wonder they called them Sloth Days.

"Is Camille here with you?" Alec didn't even process what he had said until it was out of his mouth. It was like he was supposed to think it but instead of the thought going through his brain it came out of his mouth instead. He looked back to Magnus quickly with a blushing face, wondering what the other man's reaction would be to such a weird question.

Magnus, weirdly, barely seemed fazed. He let his head roll back against the headrest of the seat as he yawned, "No. She has other business to attend to elsewhere." Magnus rolled his eyes, drawing Alec's attention to the dramatic, dark kohl that made the golden iris' practically glow. "So much business in this place. You'd almost think it wasn't an artsy joint."

Alec felt incredibly stupid for asking the question, despite the fact that Magnus didn't seem to have even blinked at the sure weirdness of it. He hadn't been able to get his mind off how his mother had reacted when Isabelle insinuated that Magnus had been flirting with him. Like it was forbidden somehow and Magnus was breaking some sort of contract by even thinking about doing such a thing. Maybe it was just her old-fashioned roots showing, and she had simply been horrified by the idea of a man flirting with her son, despite her son having come out of the closet to her barely ten minutes' prior.

It was no secret that Maryse was upset with Alec. At first it had seemed like she was okay with what he had told her, but as the days progressed he realised it may not be as easy as he had first perceived. She hadn't spoken to him since that breakfast and Alec didn't know whether it was normal for her to shun her kids or not. He'd have to ask Isabelle later, because he knew she'd surely have some sort of opinion on the matter.

"Why are ya asking about Camille?" Magnus suddenly asked.

Alec's eyes widened with surprise. "I-I-I"-

Magnus raised his eyebrows. Those kohled eyes were bright with curiosity. "Did Maryse say something?"

"Nothing bad!" Alec quickly assured.

This made Magnus snort with amusement. "Is Maryse capable of saying anything besides bad stuff?" he chuckled. He noticed Alec looked slightly shocked from being called out so suddenly so he reached across the table and poked his arm playfully. "Don't listen to your mother. She's got a stick so far up her ass I'm surprised we haven't hung a flag out of her mouth yet."

Alec laughed. That was definitely an analogy he hadn't heard before. He watched Magnus for a moment, confused as to what this then meant. "So . . . you're not dating Camille?" he took a chance by asking.

Magnus paused. He pursed his lips, seeming to be in deep thought. Alec wondered how such a question could cause someone to have to ponder the answer so hard. Isn't it a simple yes or no question? "It's complicated," the performer eventually settled with.

"What? Like the Facebook status?"

Magnus grinned. "Got it in one, baby." He winked and Alec was pretty sure his blood had turned to fire inside of his veins. "Can't be too straightforward, then people find you easy to figure out."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Of course, it's a bad thing! Keep them on their toes, Alexander!"

Alec picked up one of the highlighters he kept at the table and started flicking the cap open and shut to occupy his hands. "It's Alec," he said. "My mother calls me Alexander."

"But no one else does, am I right?" There was a cheeky lilt to Magnus' smile. "I want to be part of that special, elite group that has the pleasure of calling you such, _Alexander."_ The way he said Alec's full name, like he was a cat purring as it got stroked in the right places, made a shiver slither down Alec's spine. "I hate when people shorten their names. I've had people call me Mags in the past. Like, really? _Mags_?"

"Isabelle, I'm assuming?"

"How'd you guess?" Magnus laughed.

Alec shrugged. "Isabelle was the one who suggested shortening my name to Alex when I said my full name was a mouthful. I didn't like that though so I chose Alec instead."

"Full mouth? What are you talking about? It just rolls off the tongue! Besides, Alexander is sexier," Magnus slapped the table with finality, as if this was going to consolidate his point.

Alec fought not to blush at that. "Now that is something I am not," he quickly deflected. _Maybe you but not me._ "Hence why it's Alec, not Alexander."

Magnus blew a raspberry. "You're probably right. I mean, bi-lingual French students studying medicine with brains the size of Russia with a soft spot for creativity; an alluring name and pretty face are the _epitome_ of unsexy."

Alec stared at Magnus for a moment, trying to decipher whether he was being serious or severely sarcastic. Magnus could see that Alec was struggling to come to terms with his previous statement and chuckled, shaking his head with disbelief. "I can't tell if that was a joke or not," Alec said seriously.

"Don't hear compliments often?" asked Magnus.

"Uh . . ."

"I'm going to take that as a no." Magnus beamed. "Don't worry, my darling, you'll get used to them the more time you spend in my company."

Magnus wanted to spend more time in Alec's company? Now that baffled Alec more than the confusing compliment. Surely Magnus didn't _want_ to spend any more time than he had to with him? Couldn't he see that Alec was boring and had nothing interesting to offer him in terms of conversation or company?

"By the way," Magnus said as he stood up, his hand landing on one of the pages Alec had translated, " _Quiero follarte duro_ means 'I want to fuck you hard'. Happy translating!" The glittery performer winked at Alec's horrified face before sauntering over to Isabelle at the bar.

Alec slapped a hand over his burning face and groaned. He was mortified. He needed the ground to open and swallow him up asap.

~TSL~

A few hours passed and Alec had thankfully gotten most what remained of the script translated. He wasn't sure whether things picked up in the evening when the local bands came in to play so he didn't want to get in the way; especially not with a sea of papers completely covering the table he sat at. So, once it started to get dark outside, Alec straightened out all the papers and returned them to the flip folder where he safely stored them.

Alec joined Isabelle, who had changed into a glitzier outfit since her shift had ended, at the bar. Maia was still tending and Alec vaguely wondered if the girl ever got a break.

"Mum is still talking to those two," Isabelle thought out loud, craning her head back to stare at their mother, who was indeed still talking to the two business men from earlier. "What could they possibly be talking about?"

"Business," Alec flatly replied.

Isabelle gave him an unimpressed look. "Ha ha. Care to try to be less vague and venture a guess into what sort of business it could be they're talking about?"

Alec shrugged, perching on one of the stools by the bar and putting his folder down on top. "Don't ask me. I don't even know what 'business' constitutes for The Letter."

"It could be more investors," Maia suggested.

Isabelle pulled a face. "I doubt it. Those other guys Mum was talking about haven't even showed up for a performance yet, I doubt she would be searching for more just yet." Her red lips parted as she realised. "Maybe they are the other guys! But why are they here on a Sloth Day? Hardly a time to sell The Letter's attributes."

"Didn't Mum say she'd already gotten those guys to invest?" Alec frowned. "She did say at breakfast last weekend that the meeting had been successful."

"If that's true I don't know what they could be talking about then," shrugged Maia. "The weather? The Letter's Health Standards? The amount of glitter Magnus Bane wastes in a single performance? The possibilities are endless . . ."

Isabelle was silently staring at their mother, looking very uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I'll be back in a moment," she said, so quietly it was almost like she was talking to herself.

"You okay?" Alec asked as his sister jumped off her stool.

"Oh yeah, fine. I just need to talk to Jace." Suddenly, like a flip had been switched inside her, a big, bright smile broke out across Isabelle's face again. "I shan't be long!"

Once Isabelle was gone, Alec couldn't help looking back in his mother's direction, trying to spot what it was that had made her go all wobbly for a moment. He couldn't see anything, everything looked normal to him. Maybe his sister had just had a moment where she tuned out. Alec could understand that; it happened him all the time.

"What were you doing over there?" Maia's voice dragged Alec from his thoughts. "The only times your head lifted was when Isabelle stopped by your table and Magnus Bane sat down beside you."

Why did Maia refer to Magnus by both his fore and surname? Alec wondered if it was because Maia didn't feel like she was on a singular name basis with the performer or if she simply believed it added more effect to Magnus' title. The former didn't seem to fit what Alec knew of Maia's personality so far but the latter was definitely working, if it were true. Mainly because Magnus' name, whether used formally or casually, seemed to always cause Alec's heart to stutter in his chest, like the man was actually in his presence simply by the sound of his own name being said.

"Uh, just some work," Alec vaguely answered, sliding his forefinger along the blunted edges of the plastic folder containing the scripts.

"Isabelle said you were translating a porno into Spanish for PornHub," Maia replied, amusement in her voice.

"What?!" Alec was going to kill Isabelle.

"I didn't believe her, of course. Whether you're writing it in Spanish or not, it's not exactly something you leave sprawled around your table for any passer-by to see," Maia explained. "Besides, it can be easy to know when Isabelle is bullshitting. She used to tease about Jace all the time when he first came here. I suppose it's a rite of passage when her siblings first show up at The Letter."

Or just a rite of annoyance that Isabelle always partook in, even before any of them showed up at The Letter . . .

"I'm not translating a porno." There was a sentence Alec never thought he'd have to say in his life. "I'm translating a film for someone." He left out that said film did have scenes of a pornographic nature in it because he rather wished he could bleach those scenes from his brain as quickly as possible now that he had translated them.

"Oooh, cool." Maia propped her elbows on the edge of the bar, dark eyes sparkling with interest. "Anything big? Will I see your name credited at the end of the next blockbuster flick?"

"No, not really. Big budget movies don't tend to troll the internet for translation services," Alec shrugged.

Maia laughed and clicked her fingers. "Good point, mon anime."

Alec couldn't help chuckling. "You mean _mon amie_?"

"Yeah, that too. Although, Hetalia has some French in it, I'm pretty sure. Or just . . . France . . . I don't really know, I don't watch anime too often."

"I have no idea what any of that means." Alec decided that he liked Maia. She was easy going and wasn't difficult to talk to. Which was a godsend for Alec since he had a habit of being awkward and introverted when it came to casual conversation. But Maia was able to draw it out of him naturally, without having to force it.

At least he was making friends. If he could take anything out of this experience, then at least Alec could say he gained some social skills.

"Alexander."

Alec around at the sound of his mother's voice and nearly fell off his seat in surprise when he came face to face with her. He never understood how some people could just sneak up behind you without making a single sound. Behind his mother were the two men she had been speaking with for hours. Both were rather . . . unique looking. They were clearly father and son, for they both had similar facial structures and characteristics. The thing that captured Alec's attention the most though was their hair. White as snow. Did they bleach their hair or was it just really, really, _really_ fair?

"Yeah, Mère?"

Maryse seemed placated simply by being referred to in their mother tongue. She smiled-something Alec guessed by this point was a rarity-and asked, "Have you seen Isabelle?"

"She went to speak with Jace, where-ever he is," Alec replied. "Why?" His mother's nostrils flared and she exhaled, clearly executing some self-control over herself for some reason. "She said she wouldn't be long," Alec added for quick measure, just to make sure Isabelle didn't get into trouble with their mother.

"It doesn't matter," Maryse sighed, her voice sounding very strained.

Alec eyed his mother carefully. "You sure?"

Maryse nodded. "Yes. I suppose it'll have to be."

Alec noticed the younger man standing behind his mother turn and say something to his father. A moment later, the older of the two spoke up. "Mrs Lightwood, you didn't tell us you had another son."

Maryse quickly stepped aside so the men were in full view and began sputtering, "Of course, how rude of me. Alec, these men are the two new benefactors for The Scarlet Letter that I was telling you about; Mr Morgenstern and his son Sebastian. Mr Morgenstern, Sebastian, this is my eldest son Alexander."

Alec was slightly taken aback from seeing his mother turn to a spluttering mess simply by the utterance of one statement from these guys. She was normally so firm and strict, it was odd seeing her quickly submit to the whims of someone else. He shook himself out of his surprised reverie and attempted to give Mr Morgenstern and his son the least awkward smile he could muster.

"Call me Valentine," Mr Morgenstern was quick to correct, reaching his hand out for a shake. Alec accepted the gesture, politely shaking the man's hand. Sebastian didn't move, he simply stood beside his father with a placid expression on his face. "So, I'm assuming you don't work here, since Maryse hasn't mentioned you at all."

"Uh, no. I'm, ah, just here visiting," Alec carefully answered. Maryse was giving him a sharp look that was a clear message of _don't mess this up!_

"Ah, an outsider like us," Valentine mused. He brushed his white hair back from his face and said, "From the perspective of a fellow outsider, do you believe your parents' establishment is worth investing in?"

Alec felt like a weight had been dropped on his shoulders. His mother looked like she was internally screaming while Valentine didn't remove his eyes from Alec as he waited patiently for Alec's answer. Dieu, was this a test or something?! "Of course, I do. The Letter offers top quality entertainment in varying forms with performers who could really be on Broadway if they wanted to be. I'd recommend dropping by sometime over the weekend, that's when you can see The Letter at its best. The queue to enter snakes around the streets but I'm sure if Mère gives you both a Scarlet Letter each you'd be able to skip through and get a good seat at the front." Alec glanced at Maryse, who couldn't hide her relief if she tried, and he quickly added for good measure, "My sister's slot is amazing and I'd definitely recommend sticking around for Jace in Magnus Bane's hour."

Valentine nodded, somehow appeased by Alec's answer. Like he had had some sort of doubt about The Letter that had just been debunked. "Then that we shall do," he said. "Maryse, book my son and I a good table for Saturday night. I want to see this place in the thick of things."

"Of course, Mr Morgenstern," Maryse answered. "I'll arrange you both Scarlet Letter pins before you leave today."

Maryse had begun to bustle both benefactors away, almost as if she were afraid Alec was going to ruin his streak by coming out with something abhorrent about her business. Valentine made sure to stand his ground until he'd said a proper goodbye before letting Maryse brush him and his son off to her office.

"Good job selling the place," Maia praised as Alec turned back around. He buried his face into his arms and groaned. "You'd almost have thought you knew what you were talking about."

"Have I ever said that I hate talking to new people?" Alec asked, voice muffled by his arms. "Particularly new, important people who have a bearing on my mother's business?"

"Well, you know the saying. Do one thing every day that scares you . . ."

Alec looked up, propping his chin on his arms like he was back in Primary School, and said, "Their hair was _so_ white . . ."

Maia snorted. "Can't be natural. I refuse to believe they were born like that. _Has_ to be bleach. It just has to be!"

Alec smiled, glad that someone else was refusing to believe that the Morgenstern's hair was anything but natural. He looked over his shoulder to where his mother's table was to look at the snowy strands again, to see if the light would hit their heads a particular way and expose that it was just really, really light blonde.

Sebastian looked over his shoulder as well, despite the fact that Maryse was talking away about something, and caught Alec's gaze. The Morgenstern boy didn't look alarmed by the fact that Alec was looking at him, while the complete opposite happened to Alec. Shit, could this ruin everything? Could Sebastian simply turn to his father and say that Maryse's son was staring at them and that he didn't want to invest in The Letter because of the creepiness?

There was something off putting about Sebastian's gaze. Alec couldn't tell if it was the shadows in the corner where the table sat or just a trick of the light, but Sebastian's eyes were almost completely black. A shudder wracked Alec's body and he quickly looked away again, unable to hold Sebastian's dark stare for more than a minute.

Once Alec broke the stare, Sebastian Morgenstern smirked and turned back to face Maryse again.

 **A/N: I apologise if any of the different languages are mistranslated. Google translate isn't exactly the most reliable translator in the world but meh, I back translated everything and it came out okay so I'm hoping its all okay. Again, I apologise if some of its incorrect!**

 **Please review with your thoughts, I love to hear what you guys think! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hiya guys! I'm sorry this chapter took a while! I had a touch of writer's block. I try to give myself time for inspiration to hit when this happens because I don't want to force out a half-assed chapter for the sake of getting an update out. I feel that slow updates but better quality writing is better than the alternative. I hope you guys agree (:**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments or Shadowhunters.**

Chapter Five

The following weekend, Alec managed to avoid the glaring eye of The Letter. Isabelle didn't force him to sit at the front of the crowd so he was able to blend in at the back or even slip out the front for some fresh air occasionally. The freedom made his experience much more enjoyable in comparison to when his sister was breathing down his neck to make sure he was seeing what she wanted him to see.

As usual, the Letter was packed. Saturday was their best night of the weekends and even if what Alec had said about there being lines stretching around corners was a slight exaggeration, there were still plenty of people who had to wait outside until there was a table free. To be honest, this was what Alec believed to be the establishment's flaw. It was always packed full. It was always loud and full. For business, that was great. More than great, amazing. But the Letter was not big enough to accommodate the numbers that visited on a regular basis. It was big but the sheer amount of people that came during the weekend meant that it got packed out way too easily.

Isabelle had mentioned something earlier in the day about Maryse wishing to expand but not having the funds for it just yet. Maybe that's why she was seeking out more investors. They currently had enough sponsors as it was to pay for the Letter in its current state but if they wished to make themselves larger through expansion, they were going to need more funds.

While the live band was playing, Alec decided to slip backstage for a while. He needed to hear himself think and wandering around on his own wasn't exactly desirable. When Jace and Isabelle were busy during the week, he usually spoke to Maia, but on a day like this one there was barely an opportunity to see Maia, let alone try to talk to her. Besides, as boring and nerdy as it sounded, Alec really needed to keep up with his work.

Logic dictated that Alec should just stay at Isabelle's apartment on the nights she must work. He usually left the Letter on weekdays around eight or nine, whereas Isabelle herself never returned until nearly three or four in the morning. He got a lot of work done during that time but Alec was paranoid. Being away from school made him itchy, like there was always something he was missing. He knew the point of this trip was to spend time with his family and get to know his parents again but Alec's paranoia meant that he tried to cram work into spaces it really shouldn't be crammed into. He had to make sure that he wasn't going to fall behind on anything, even though his classes weren't even running right now. It was just the sort of person he was.

Backstage, everyone had their own dressing room. Alec had only ever been in Isabelle's but the size of the room quietly exposed how all the money the Letter earned had to go front and centre where their patrons would notice it, while the performers had to suffer the lack of expense behind the scenes. Due to the atrocious sizing of the dressing rooms, there was a communal room at the very end of the corridor where makeup could be done and performers could hang around and chat before their shows. Isabelle told Alec he was welcome to frequent the communal room if he so wished. So, that's where he decided to go.

On his way to the door that led backstage, Alec passed the table that Maryse had booked for Valentine and his son. The pair didn't seem all too invested in the live band from but Alec could tell from the looks in their dark eyes that they were analysing everything going on around them. In a way, he didn't blame them. They were going to be putting money into an establishment, they had to make sure that it was worth it and they weren't going to lose money because of it.

As he passed, Alec caught eyes with Valentine's son again. Sebastian had this creepy ability at holding someone's gaze even if the gaze itself had been accidental. The white-haired boy raised his eyebrows, not in expectance, but what Alec didn't really know. Alec shivered, like a cold hand had pushed through his body and gripped hold of his spine and forcibly broke the stare to go where he intended to go.

The communal room was, indeed, a lot bigger than the individual dressing rooms. It was the size of your average dining room whereas the dressing rooms where the size of cupboards. There was a folding screen with a picture of a cherry blossom painted onto it in case anyone needed to change quickly and the entire right wall was lined with cushioned seats, the corner so large that Alec could stretch his entire body out on the seat and his feet wouldn't hang over the edge.

When Alec entered the dressing room, Isabelle and Jace were already there. Isabelle stood at a long row of mirrors were stretched along the far-left wall with those classic yellow spherical lights around the perimeter. A mascara brush hovered in front of her face as she stared at him through the reflection. The look on her face made Alec feel like a scolding was coming.

"I knew you wouldn't last long," she concluded. She returned her gaze to the mirror and continued applying her makeup. "I'm going to be honest, it can be a bit much. Just don't tell Mum."

"Why the hell would I tell Mère ?" Alec asked. "I don't have a death wish. As far as she's going to know I spent the entire night lost in the crowd enjoying the atmosphere."

"Why don't you say you're at the front the whole night? Stroke her gigantean ego a little," Jace suggested.

"She's here tonight. She'd know if I was at the front," Alec answered, throwing himself beside Jace in the cushioned corner.

Isabelle finished her mascara and turned around. She looked radiant, as usual, in a silvery flapper dress. It was covered in jewels that sparkled against any and every reflective surface. "Investors are snooping, of course she's here," she explained. "She needs to keep everyone in line."

"Great," Jace said flatly. "No breathing room."

"Just behave yourself and there won't be a problem," said Isabelle. This was a bit rich, coming from someone who used to the main troublemaker in the Lightwood household. "We could really use these guys jumping on board with us. Depending on how much they're willing to invest, we might finally get to expand. Which would technically mean _more_ breathing room."

Jace rolled his eyes. "The Letter could be as large as a canyon and I'd still feel like I'm suffocating."

Isabelle gave their brother a sharp look. Alec was confused by Jace's choice of wording. Didn't he like the Letter? He was about to ask what Jace meant when the door to the communal dressing room opened again.

"I've arrived, your lives just got better," Magnus entered the room in a whirlwind of colour and glitter. He was wearing a bright pink t-shirt that said ' _on Wednesdays we wear pink'_ in white block letters and was clutching a green travel mug that also had writing on it, this time the statement being, _'if it looks like I'm not listening I'm probably not'._

"Of course, because my quality of life plummets when you're not around, Bane," answered Jace.

Magnus sighed wistfully. "I cannot help the effect I have on people's lives, tragically." He took a sip from his mug and the glitter on his fingernails caught the light, creating tiny explosions of light along his fingers.

"What took you so long?" asked Isabelle. She piled her hair up into a messy bun and cinched it with a clamp. "You know investors are here tonight, right?"

"Oh, the two blokes at the front of the stage who look like their hair has been petrified?" Magnus asked. "I thought so. I had an idea they were the guys Maryse was negotiating with." He went to the mirror and put his mug down on the floor. Alec couldn't help following his every moment. Even when not performing, Magnus had a way of capturing people's attention with the simple way he moved around a room. "What do you think the price was?"

"I don't know," Isabelle admitted.

"Here's hoping its regular terms only," added Jace.

What did regular terms only mean? Were there special terms of some sort? Alec was really out of touch with business talk. Not that he was ever particularly in touch with it in the first place, to be honest.

Magnus had started applying makeup at the speed of light. He did it with so much ease that one would almost believe he had been born with a blusher brush in his hands. "Well here's hoping it's economic only and we don't have to worry about"-

"Alec," Isabelle said loudly, drowning out what it was Magnus had been about to say. "Did you see mother out there at all?"

Magnus didn't look bothered by the interruption. In fact, his reflection in the mirror's eyes widened in almost shock. He turned around again to stare at Alec sitting there beside Jace as he shook his head in answer to Isabelle's question. "I didn't see you there, Alexander," he grinned.

"It's the black sweaters," Isabelle said. "It makes him blend into the background."

"Maybe that's the point," Alec answered.

"That is a tragic response to such an accusation, Alexander," Magnus scolded.

"Not all of us wish to stand out," Alec shrugged.

Magnus tutted and returned to applying his makeup in the mirror. The new smile on his face, however, was unmistakeable. Alec briefly wondered if he had put that smile there. That his simple presence in this room had somehow caused the performer to smile like his entire mood had been lifted. But he quickly dismissed it. Why would he cause such a reaction? Reacting that way to someone's presence was exclusive to couples or lovers. Alec had to keep reminding himself that Magnus was taken, even if his mother's quick reaction to inform him of this should have been enough.

"Who the fuck is Alexander?" asked Jace.

Isabelle stared at Jace like he had two heads. "Your brother," she answered.

Jace rolled his eyes, like she had just stated the obvious. "No shit, really?" he answered sarcastically. He looked at Alec. "You're Alec, right? I haven't fallen into La La Land where you've suddenly decided to turn into Dr. Alexander, right?"

Alec started laughing. "No, you're fine, Jace. You're still in the real world."

"I've just been blessed with a privilege that's all," Magnus informed them. "As you know I have a personal hatred for shortening names"-

"Of course, Mags," Isabelle said.

Magnus rolled his head to stare at Isabelle with a penetrating case that could burn steel. She grinned and nudged his arm playfully. "Mags is the old woman from Catching Fire. I am Magnus," he iterated to her. Isabelle pulled a serious face and gave him a thumbs up to show her understanding. Alec had a feeling she'd continue to call him Mags regardless. " _Anyway_ , I find that I prefer the full use of a name rather than a shortened imposter."

"But it's not your decision what you call people," Jace counterpointed.

Magnus smirked. "Your brother doesn't mind, do you _Alexander_?"

Three sets of eyes fell on him. Alec's heart had started beating really fast for some reason. He _could_ say that he loved Magnus calling him Alexander because it felt like he put careful consideration into every syllable. He _could also_ say that somehow every time Magnus said his full name it felt like a feather was being brushed down his spine, causing an inexplicable shiver each and every time.

"No," Alec said, "I don't mind at all."

Jace leaned back on his elbows. "You'll be calling me Johnathan, next," he muttered.

"Your name's _Johnathan?!_ " Magnus spun around, delight written all over his face. He crossed the short distance to where Jace was sitting and jumped onto the cushioned seat beside him. "Why am I only being informed of this now?"

"Because it's not my name," Jace said. "I legally changed it."

Magnus stood on his knees beside Jace and hit him upside the head. "You're a walking disaster, you are. Imagine changing your name! You had a lovely long one right at your disposal and you disgrace it." Magnus shook his head. "You need to sort your life out, Wayland."

"Yes, because my every whim is to be at your service and to please you," Jace sarcastically responded.

Magnus beamed. "I'm glad you recognise this." He looked over his shoulder at Isabelle. "Your name is still the same, right? You're not really Isabelle-necessary-on-a-bicycle or anything?"

Isabelle burst into fake laughter. "You're so funny, Magnus," she said in a high-pitched voice, like a mother talking to a child. "How'd you get so funny?"

"I know, it's a gift," Magnus answered, preening like a peacock despite the obvious sarcasm in Isabelle's words.

Isabelle picked up a pillow and smushed it into Magnus' face. Her smile was genuine this time as Magnus fell backwards and started dramatically exclaiming, "My makeup! What would I do without my face painted in makeup! Oh, the humanity!"

The door swung open and Maryse suddenly entered. Immediately, the atmosphere changed. Isabelle dropped the pillow and jumped back like she'd been forcibly dragged and Jace even stood up like some sort of regal figure had entered. Magnus was the only one who took his time. He slowly sat up and stared at Maryse with a bored expression, even though she hadn't even opened her mouth yet. She wasn't looking at Magnus, though, the first thing she noticed was Alec sitting beside him.

"Why aren't you out there?" she asked.

Alec quickly thought on his feet. "I had a bit of a headache so I came back here for a while until it passed."

Maryse didn't look wholly convinced but there was no way of proving him wrong. "You won't get peace and quiet in here with this unruly bunch messing around." She then directed her eyes to each of her performers in turn. Isabelle. Jace. Then Magnus. "Valentine Morgenstern has told me that he is willing to invest."

"That's great, mother!" Isabelle said.

Maryse didn't look happy. "It's not regular terms." The smile dropped off Isabelle's face instantly. "Valentine wants us to"-

"Alexander, do you think maybe you could step outside for a moment while your mother discusses the terms of Valentine's contract?" Magnus interrupted Maryse to enquire. "It's nothing personal. Just a load of confidentiality nonsense."

That made sense. "Sure, no problem," Alec answered. He stood up and left the room. As he was shutting the door, he heard Isabelle hiss something that sounded a lot like, _I can't believe you were going to start talking about special conditions in front of him!_

Alec didn't think much of it. As Magnus had explained, confidentiality nonsense. He didn't want to be the reason Maryse lost her investors simply because they didn't want to be rude to him and ask him to leave for a moment. It made a lot of sense to him.

Alec had been ready to join the fray outside again when shouting suddenly erupted from the communal room. He stopped at the backstage exit and looked over his shoulder at the door to the communal room. The distance between the exit and the door wasn't large and it was easy to hear what was being shouted about from where Alec stood.

"No! No, you can't do that! Tell them no! Tell them that's not how the special conditions work!" Isabelle was shouting.

"That's unjustified Maryse, you can't do it!" Jace was yelling at the same time. "We won't let you do it! He has nothing to do with the Letter! Nothing to do with any of this!"

Alec couldn't resist returning to the door. He pressed his ear against it to hear better. This way, he could hear his mother, who was speaking in a measured voice despite Jace and Isabelle shouting at her. "It's the only way. You know how much we need this money. I'm sure he'll understand, just like you all did."

"We chose this, he didn't!" Isabelle screamed back.

"Maryse," Magnus said, his voice on a same level of calm as Maryse's had been. Except there was an edge to it, like he could be easily pushed or provoked. "Let me try first. Explain to them that that just isn't possible and you have many other people who actually work for the establishment who are willing to cater to their needs."

"It will clash with your time with Camille," Maryse answered. "We need her just as much as anyone else."

"Christ, then let me Mum!" Jace exclaimed. "You can't just jump to this extreme immediately. We need to do _something_!"

What in the world were they talking about? What did Valentine want? What exactly were these dreaded special conditions? What was it that Maryse had told them that has gotten them so angry?

"No, Jace, we need to do as they aske"-

"What next then?" Isabelle demanded. "Are we going to start pulling people off the street and make them dance like puppets for us if that's what the investors want? Are we going to start kidnapping people; forcing them to do our will if an investor told us to do it? Where's the line, Mum? Where does this madness reach its limit?"

"Stop being dramatic, Isabelle," Maryse scolded. "This is nothing like pulling strangers off the street. We are using an asset we have at our disposal."

"So he's nothing but an asset then?" Isabelle answered. "You have three assets right in front of you! Three who have been doing this for years now! Don't drag him into this, you know what it'll do to him. The Letter is a never-ending Labyrinth, you never get out once you get pulled in!"

A pause.

Alec stood and listened with baited breath. Who exactly where they talking about? Who was Valentine asking for and why?

"Unless . . . Unless you want him to get pulled in," Isabelle said, her voice quieter.

"Really, Maryse, you're being unreasonable," said Magnus.

"I am not! I am doing what any businesswoman would do in this situation!" Maryse snapped back.

"Are you a businesswoman first or a mother first?" Jace demanded to know. "This has nothing to do with Alec!"

As soon as he heard his name, his reaction was instantaneous. Alec threw the door open with so much force it smacked the opposite wall. All eyes turned to him. "What the hell are you talking about?" he exclaimed.

Isabelle was immediately smiling again, the speed she could do it in almost terrifying. "Nothing, Alec, we were just discussing business." Jace was attempting the same demeanour, his run of the mill casual lopsided grin on his face. Magnus wasn't having any of their fakery and stood between the both of them with a grim expression on his face.

"I heard my name being said. What are you talking about?" Alec insisted.

Maryse stepped closer to him. "Alec, is it okay if we maybe talk alone somewh"-

"No, mother," Isabelle snapped. The two women shared a look. It was like they were having some sort of staring/glaring contest. Alec got an unsettled feeling in his stomach. It made him anxious about what it was exactly that his mother wanted him to do. What sort of Letter business had anything to do with him anyway?

"Let the boys try first at least," Isabelle pleaded. If Alec hadn't been aware of the previous conversation that had just happened, Isabelle's voice could have been mistaken for insistence. However, there was a tone of desperation there that he couldn't miss. He knew Isabelle too well. "Mère, _please_."

Maryse shook her head solemnly. "You have two weeks to prove to convince them that you're better than what they want. It's not until the end of the month they're expecting it anyways."

Maryse left without another word. She didn't even give Alec a second glance as she passed him. It was almost as if she couldn't meet his eye. When she was gone, Isabelle seemed to relax a bit, but not by much. She released her hair from its clamp and ran her fingers through it. "I've got to go, I'm on soon," she said. She too left the room, however unlike their mother she actually made the effort to smile at Alec before she did.

Alec knew his mother wasn't the smiling sort like his sister but everything he had heard had deeply unseated him and he needed some form of reassurance that things are okay.

"What does Valentine want?" Alec asked, directing his attention to Jace and Magnus.

Again, another look was shared. A look that once again did not involve Alec. What the hell was up with all the secrecy?

"Don't worry about it," Jace said. He grabbed what looked like a script from where he had been sitting and muttered under his breath, "I got to go rehearse in my room," as he brushed past Alec to leave the room.

That left Alec and Magnus.

Magnus had no qualms with holding Alec's gaze as he stared at him in the hops he'd tell him what the hell had just happened. "Let me guess," Alec said, "you're going to tell me not to worry about it, too."

The performer folded his arms across his chest. "It won't do you any good so why bother?" he answered. "Won't stop you worrying."

"Then tell me what's going on."

"It won't be a concern of yours," Magnus assured. "Jace and I will make sure of it. A line was crossed in Valentine's special condition request. Your mother will recognise that in due course. That's all you need to know."

Alec eyed Magnus suspiciously. "What's that got to do with me?" he asked.

Magnus shrugged. "Soon it will have nothing to do with you." He closed the distance between them and placed a reassuring hand on Alec's shoulder. For someone so seemingly lithe, Magnus had a strong grip. "In the meantime, focus on your vacation and your work. That's what's important. Everything else will fall into place around you as long as you focus on what's important in your life."

Alec couldn't help getting slightly lost being so close to such a beautiful man. Magnus had eyes that anyone could get lost in. The golden green of them so pronounced it almost looked like liquid gold in his iris's'. Alec swallowed hard and repeated, "What does Valentine want?"

Magnus' expression was somewhat sympathetic. The rings on his fingers were digging into Alec's skin through his sweater but he barely registered the pain. He opened his mouth to respond but the voice that came out was not his own.

"Magnus, what are you doing?"

Alec looked over his shoulder and jumped in surprise at the appearance of Camille. She had just appeared out of thin air, Alec hadn't even heard her approaching from behind him. Had he been that lost in Magnus' golden eyes that he hadn't been able to hear Camille's tall red heels clinking against the ground?

Magnus didn't look fazed by Camille's appearance. He didn't even remove his hand from Alec's shoulder. "You're early," he told her.

"And what's wrong with that? Scared of getting caught with your hand in the cookie jar?" Camille sneered back. "You should be ready for me at all times." Why was she speaking to Magnus so horribly? Why was she treating him like property?

Magnus rolled his eyes. Ignoring Camille, he returned them to Alec. "I know it's worthless saying don't worry but at least try," he said gently. "Trust me, if we have our way, you won't ever hear of this again." Alec nodded, but he didn't feel at all comforted by Magnus' words.

Magnus then smiled brightly and slowly removed his hand from Alec's shoulder. He looked at Camille again and said, "I suppose we should get this over with."

With a reluctant sigh, he walked past Alec and grabbed Camille's hand. Their interaction as they walked off was so odd Alec didn't even feel jealous of it. They treated one another with such hostility. Camille acted like Magnus was her property and Magnus acted like she was some sort of burden on him. Could they truly be in a relationship? If they were, it certainly couldn't be a happy one.

Now Alec stood alone in the room, with nothing but his own confusing thoughts to keep him company.

 **A/N: I hope this was worth the wait! I'm hoping the next wait won't be as long but I won't make any promises so that I don't jinx anything.**

 **If anyone's interested I review episodes of Shadowhunters on my channel. Check it out if you want! I can be found under Erin Curran (I'd include a link but this site seems to hate links).**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I am so sorry that this took me so long to update. I've been going through some writer's block with this one but rest assured the story is not abandoned. It may just take some time for each chapter to come out.**

 **Sadly no Malec in this chapter but it's all plot building, I promise. This chapter is unedited because it's four in the morning and I don't trust myself to edit correctly. I wanted to get this chapter out for you guys since it was finished (:**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own The Mortal Instruments or Shadowhunters.**

Chapter Six

Alec sat on the pier railing, staring out the constantly moving sea. Despite the constant rattle of conversation that surrounded him, his focus was solely on the calming swish of the waves. It settled his nerves more than a reassuring word ever could and a part of him wished that he could spend all his time here instead of eventually returning to the obnoxious noise of the Scarlet Letter.

It was a gorgeous day. The sun beat down on his black clad back like there was magnifying glass pointed directly at him. Alec knew it was partially his fault for deciding to wear black on such a hot day but his wardrobe wasn't extremely extensive when it came to colouring. Black was all he had and he liked it that way. Black helped him blend in. He didn't care that it made people think he was some sort of emo or goth. That just meant that they left him alone even further.

Alec spent some time away from the Letter. He didn't know how to describe it but after what had happened in the dressing room between his family and Magnus, he didn't feel comfortable spending too much time there. Like there was some sort of invisible force constantly pushing him away, warning him that he was not welcome there.

Magnus had told him to relax and try not to think about what he had heard, but saying this had had the opposite effect on him. Now all Alec was able to think about was what he had heard behind the door when they thought he was gone. Alec wanted to know what he had to do with anything related to the Letter's investment decisions. They had distinctly said his name, there was no doubt about it. But why? What had he to do with the Letter's business affairs? He was just here on holiday, that was all.

Alec piled a lot of his energy into working. He spent the majority of his nights at Isabelle's apartment studying and translating and then he would go out and investigate LA during his free time. Isabelle had told him that their mother was started to get suspicious as to why he hadn't returned to the Letter. Isabelle had apparently told Maryse to stop being stupid and of course he was weary after what he had heard.

Alec didn't want to worry his mother. He did intend to return to the Letter for the weekend performances, he just didn't couldn't sit around there anymore. It felt like there were whispers going on being his back; eyes burning into the back of his head; conversations happening about him that he wasn't aware of. At least during the weekend, the buzz was so thick that he didn't have a chance to worry about what was going on behind the scenes. Yeah, he'd go back at the weekend. Just not yet.

He found that he enjoyed spending a lot of his time at the beach. Sitting by the ocean was peaceful, despite how crowded and excited the beach constantly was. Alec felt free by the seaside whereas in the Letter he felt almost stuck in place. Constantly being watched, so to speak. Maryse would never be at the beach so Alec didn't have to worry about what he said or did. He could just sit in the sand and . . . exist.

It sounded odd because . . . well . . . he existed every day, even when being watched by his mother he still _existed._ To not exist meant not being a part of this world, contributing nothing to the fabric of the universe. The sad thing was, in the presence of his mother, he didn't feel like he was fully existing. Ever since he realised that his mother wasn't entirely happy by the revelation of his sexuality, he immediately knew he couldn't fully be himself around her. He felt obligated to act like a shadow of himself. A puppet Alec who could hopefully please his mother.

Then these whispers started. The talking behind his back. Was puppet Alec not enough? Was there some sort of issue with the shadow of himself he was providing to his mother? Was that what they had been talking about? That didn't explain its relation to the Letter and its investors, which still remained a mystery to Alec. It just added another concern onto a hefty pile of others.

"Hey, you're Alexander, right?"

Alec looked up in alarm. He didn't hear his full name often and when he did it was usually from his parents or, most recently, Magnus. So, hearing it in a public place from a voice that clearly wasn't any of those people was slightly disconcerting.

His confusion was cleared by the appearance of Sebastian Morgenstern, who stood a short distance from Alec on the opposite side of the pier railing.

"Uh, yeah. But call me Alec. Sebastian, right?" said Alec.

The Morgenstern man was dressed similarly to Alec in the sense that he had chosen black as his primary colour option. He had a lot of skin on show which, despite it being such a hot climate, was a practice Alec could never understand. Mainly because, for one thing, Sebastian had similar skin tone to himself and looked like he'd fry like bacon bathed in oil out under the unforgiving sun. Alec supposed it was great that Sebastian to be so comfortable in himself to be able to wear such tight and revealing clothes, it was just something Alec knew that he himself would never have been comfortable in.

"Right." Sebastian leaned against the railing Alec was sat on. "What are you doing out here alone?"

Alec shrugged. "I like the peace of the beach."

Sebastian's dark eyes glinted in the sunlight. Alec couldn't pinpoint what colour they were. They looked almost black. Was that possible? "Family busy?"

"Weekdays aren't as busy for them. Isabelle does a touch of waitressing but besides that it's pretty dead." Alec wasn't sure what Jace did when the Letter wasn't busy. He knew Magnus hung around the place because he considered it a home away from home and then Isabelle did her waitressing but Jace almost . . . vanished.

"Is it dead nearly every day of week?" Sebastian enquired.

Alec hesitated. Was Sebastian testing him? Now that he was away from the overbearing glare of his mother was Sebastian trying to fish for a truth that may have been hidden under Maryse's order?

"Not necessarily. It poses more as a day bar on weekdays where people come in for a quiet drink. There are no live performances like the weekends but sometimes there is the odd live band that will come to in play for ambiance purposes, especially as the evening draws nearer," Alec quickly covered up. "Dead is probably the wrong word to have used. More so in the sense that in comparison to how it is on weekends, the weekdays aren't as exciting."

Sebastian had starting grinning half way through Alec's rambling and it made him wonder if he was saying anything particularly funny. He was clearly making an ass of himself, it was obvious that he had panicked and started yapping what first came to mind in order to retract his previous statement. Had he doomed this investment before it had even started?

"Relax, we're well beyond the point of deciding not to invest," Sebastian explained. "As long as the correct payment is made, my father and I will invest."

Alec flicked his hair out of his eyes and asked, "About that, what exactly are these 'special conditions'?"

Sebastian quirked an eyebrow. "You don't know?"

"I'm not very involved in the business end of things. As you know, I don't work at the Letter, I'm just visiting. I'm just sort of curious as to what these special conditions will entail. My family keep saying it's none of my concern."

Alec didn't know if asking Sebastian this meant that he was going behind his family's back but he knew they certainly weren't going to tell him. Besides, what could possibly so bad about finding out what it meant? He needed to know how it involved him or else he was going to lose his mind.

"Curious," said Sebastian. "It's odd that you don't know. I mean, the Letter is known for being highly dependent on its benefactors, after all."

"Oh, I know. Without the investments, it would never have taken off like it has," Alec replied.

Sebastian seemed amused, somehow, about what Alec was saying to him. Alec couldn't find anything all that funny about what he had been saying but the smile on the other man's face said otherwise. There was something about the constant expression on Sebastian's face that made Alec feel cold. He didn't know how to explain it but there was an almost menacing sparkle to the man's eyes that never seemed to leave. Even when Sebastian was smiling, it was still there. A tiny glint constantly in the corner of the eye.

"Your family are right," Sebastian eventually said. "It's none of your concern."

Alec was disappointed by this response. He had been hoping for at least some type of insight into what the special conditions entailed. Why was everyone being so secretive about it? Surely this was all just about money? Was it really that private?

"I don't want to go against the wishes of your family," Sebastian continued.

"Surely it's not _that_ private? It's just . . . it's just . . . money, right?" Alec frowned.

Sebastian hoisted himself up onto the railing beside Alec. "You'll find out eventually," he said. "Trust me on that."

Alec pushed his hair out of his face again. He was in desperate need of a haircut. "What makes you think so?"

"You'll have to find out," was all Sebastian said.

That was just even more confusing. Everyone was being so odd and secretive, but now Sebastian was hinting that Alec was going to be find out eventually. Not even that he was going to find out, he _had_ to find out. By the angel, why was this becoming so complex? Why couldn't someone just give him a damn straight answer?

"So, are you enjoying LA?" asked Sebastian.

"Yeah, it's lovely," Alec answered.

"Do you miss France?"

Alec nodded. "Every day. It's definitely much different here than it is there. The change is nice, though. I missed being around my family."

Sebastian nodded. "It must be hard not being around your family all the time. There's such a distance between American and France, it's got to be hard."

"You have no idea."

It was a difficult situation to be in. Alec missed his family like crazy and wished he could live closer to them, but he also missed being back home as well. But to have one meant that he couldn't have the other. It would be nice to be with his family all the time but he had to return home to finish his studies. Besides, as much as he enjoyed LA, he was immensely homesick. He wasn't like Isabelle or Jace. There was no way he could live here for good. He was enjoying his time here but, like all vacations, he was excited to go home as well.

But there were still a few weeks until then, he could enjoy the time he had with his siblings before he had to go home again.

"The only Lightwood I've really spoken to is your mother and she's not really the sort to casually converse with," Sebastian explained. "What part of France are you guys from, anyways?"

"Paris," Alec answered. "The Lightwoods have a house in Neuilly-sur-Seine that's been passed down to us for decades. It's a nice place to live because it's right beside the city."

"Neuilly-sur-Seine," Sebastian repeated. "God, this sounds stupid but that sounds so French."

Alec couldn't help being amused when people got excited by how he was . . . well . . . French. Being told was one thing but then hearing actual evidence of it somehow made it more . . . real for people? Was real the right word? In some respect, Alec could understand. As an admirer of foreign languages, Alec was able to recognise that he, especially in his current location, was the foreigner.

"You can vaguely hear your mother's accent when she says particular words but yours is so thick," Sebastian continued. "In the best possible way, of course."

Alec wondered what his accent sounded like. To him, he was talking normally, it was everyone else who were talking differently. "At least I'm understandable. I hate having to repeat myself," Alec said.

"If you were talking with that accent, I wouldn't be surprised if people got you to repeat yourself anyway."

Alec glanced at Sebastian with a curious frown. The taller man was smirking, that malicious glint glimmering with mischief. Was Alec crazy or was that flirting? Alec wasn't great at picking out flirty comments but ever since he met Magnus he'd been on the receiving end of more flirtations that he knew what to do with.

"It's just my voice," Alec sheepishly replied. It was a stupid response but he honestly had no idea how to answer. How does one respond to flirting? Thanking the giver sounded almost . . . rude?

"Well, you'd think so obviously. I mean, it's how accents work, right? Everyone thinks they're talking normally until they're in a different country and suddenly they're the odd one out. I visited England once and everyone was baffled by how, in their words, 'American', I sounded," Sebastian explained with a shrug.

Alec toed the sand. His shoelaces were fraying and coming undone but he couldn't be bothered retying them. "Yeah, it's funny how the world works," he said.

He could feel Sebastian watching him intently. How did eyes have the ability to burn the skin without needing to have physical contact? First his mother's, now Sebastian's. Everyone had eyes that sheered like a fresh flame. Why were these burning eyes suddenly being directed at him all the time? All he wanted to do was blend in which he was normally so good at.

"Your mother said you're still in school," said Sebastian, "what are you studying?"

"Medicine."

"Wow, such an oxymoron compared to your siblings. Aren't you interested in the arts?"

"I am, I would just rather be a doctor than a singer," Alec explained, shrugging. "Everyone has a preference."

"So, you sing, too?" Sebastian asked curiously.

"I've been known to."

One of the reasons that Alec's parents had been so bothered by his choice to study medicine was that they believed he was 'wasting the Lightwood talent'. They disregarded the fact that he enjoyed studying medicine and preferred it to singing and creating music as his career path. He knew that they wanted to boast that they had the perfect threesome of children who were bursting at the seams with talent and all worked for the family business.

Alec wanted to talk to Max at some point before he left because of this. He didn't want his parents forcing his baby brother to do something he didn't want to just because of this stupid image they wanted to uphold.

"I'd love to hear that sometime," Sebastian commented with an easy smile.

"You'll be waiting a long time," Alec quickly answered.

"I'm a very patient guy."

Alec wanted to be polite, so he didn't tell Sebastian that he wasn't going to sing for anyone ever again. Especially not in LA or anywhere near the Letter or his parents. He was not getting roped into performing publicly.

"So, why does your father want to invest in the Letter, anyways?" Alec asked, keen to thrust the conversation away from himself again.

Sebastian shrugged. "Similarly, to your family, we Morgenstern's love the performing arts. We don't have as strong a legacy, I'll admit, and we're all more observers than actual participants. My father just decided that he wanted to make an investment to help out some branch of performing arts in LA. It just so happened that that turned out to be the Letter."

"That's very kind of him." The performing arts had always been a community that struggled in terms of funds. It was always the first subject to get ditched in schools and has never really been supported financially when put up against the compulsory subjects like English or Math or Science.

"It's least we can do. I mean, your mother has a lot of talent bunged into that building," said Sebastian.

"That, she does."

There was a pause. Alec had never been the best conversationalist and usually when topics ran dry, he floundered on the surface desperate for help. That help usually came in the form of his sister or even Jace cutting in and continuing with a fresh topic. This was one of those moments and his sister nor Jace were in sight.

"So, is that Magnus Bane guy your boyfriend?"

The question came so far out of left field, Alec almost fell off the railing in shock. "What?!" he exclaimed.

"He sat down at the table with you last week when you were studying or something at one of the empty tables. Remember? When my father and I were discussing terms with your mother?" Sebastian explained. "I just figured from the way he was looking at you and you were looking at him that you were going out."

"I wasn't looking at him . . . in any particular way," Alec insisted. "Magnus has a girlfriend."

Sebastian nodded. "Your mother mentioned that."

Alec stared at the older man with wide eyes. "Then why ask if he's dating me?"

"I've seen that Magnus guy being carted around by his "girlfriend". He looks as miserable as a child wearing wet socks," Sebastian answered.

So, it wasn't just Alec who found Magnus and Camille's interactions oddly sombre. Alec was ashamed of himself as such a thought sent a spark of excitement through his being. Like the possibility of Magnus' misery in his relationship with Camille brought them a step closer to possibly breaking. And them possibly breaking up meant it brought Magnus a step closer to maybe becoming Alec's boyfriend instead once they did.

It was stupid and selfish. Alec should want Magnus to be happy in his relationship. He should wish for the partnership to be happy and healthy and for Magnus to have all the joy the world could offer with Camille instead of constantly dwelling on his own petty wants. There were plenty of men on the planet who he could eventually date. Why did he have to focus on this man, this one _taken_ man, so hard?

"No, ah, we're not dating."

Sebastian grinned. "Good."

Okay. Alec may have been many things, but he was not a complete moron. Some attempts at flirting did go straight over his head, just like some forms of humour and most definitely sarcasm on some occasions, but that was too blatant to ignore. How should he respond to that? Say _'no, it's actually not good because I really fucking wish Magnus Bane was single so I could date him and we could be in a relationship instead him being with that grumpy yellow cow'_?

"I, ah, appreciate the sentiment, really," Alec awkwardly said, not looking Sebastian in the face as he spoke, "but I'm not looking to date anyone here. It would just end in disaster since I'll be going back to France at the end of the Summer."

"Long distance relationships are always a bitch, aren't they?" Sebastian sighed.

"Well, I don't exactly know, I've never been in one . . . I don't really intend to, though. They always go wrong, in the end."

Sebastian sighed and let his head roll back on his neck. He sat like this for a moment, like soaking in the rays of sunlight were going to improve his next sentence. "I'm still throwing my hat into the ring, anyways," he said. "Nothing wrong with showing interest. At least you know it's there, if you ever decided that you wanted to pursue it."

Alec didn't know how to respond to that. In fact, he didn't. He just sort of stared, scrambling around in his head for something to say that wouldn't sound selfish or idiotic or stupid. It was Jace who had people propositioning him. It was Jace who always had people 'showing interest' and 'throwing their hat into the ring'. Alec didn't know what to do with this information. Especially since it was coming from the son of the man who would soon be putting money into his mother's business.

"You look shocked." Sebastian cracked an eye open. His smirk still unsettled Alec. Despite it looking deceptively innocent, there was an almost creepy undertone to it. Like Sebastian was wearing a mask of some sort to hide something from the public eye. "Have you never been asked out before?"

"Not by a man . . . No." A couple of girls had given him their numbers at the start of his first year at Uni and he hadn't had the heart to tell them that he wasn't batting in their cage, so to speak.

"You should probably get used to it, especially now that you're in a different country. People around here eat up accents like yours for breakfast, lunch and dinner," Sebastian grinned. "There's nothing sexier these days than being from a foreign land. Not to mention you're clearly smart. Again, another trait that's rising in terms of allure in the modern age. No one wants an idiot anymore."

Again, more information that Alec had no idea what he was supposed to do with. He supposed he should have felt flattered and, sure, being complimented in such a way was nice. But it also made him feel embarrassed. He didn't know enough about Sebastian to compliment him back and most of what he could say would have to be in terms of what he physically saw which, in comparison to being told that your brain is sexy, really isn't all that nice. Or at least Alec thought so, anyway.

"If it improves things any, I'm not just spontaneously deciding to ask you out because you're the first gay man I've happened upon in LA," Sebastian added. "In fact, I've found you pretty hot since the first time I saw you in the Letter."

"Well, I'm glad, I guess?" Alec replied, his face burning not because of the sun.

Sebastian hopped off the railing, landing silently in the sand. He whipped a pen out of his trouser pocket and grabbed Alec's hand. "Here's my number anyway," he said, scribbling the digits onto Alec's pale skin without even asking if it was okay. "If you ever randomly decide that you've changed your mind, call me. Or don't. I'll be around the Letter a lot anyway so you can even come talk to me then."

"Thanks . . ." Alec, again, was at a loss for words. Did you thank someone when they give you a number you didn't ask for? He was so confused. Social convention was painfully complex.

"I've got to go, I'm due for an appointment with your brother Jace," Sebastian sighed, clicking the pen shut once he finished writing his number.

Alec frowned. "An appointment with Jace? About what?"

"We're discussing payment. My father and your mother had come to an arrangement but the performers are protesting so I have to be part of their ultimatum," Sebastian groaned. "If it doesn't work out, though, I'll get what my father asked for. Maryse guaranteed it."

Alec eyed Sebastian suspiciously. "What did he ask for?"

Sebastian grinned, his voidless eyes no longer glinting. They were almost like two black holes in the place of his eye sockets. He tapped his lips knowingly. "That's for me to know and for you to find out." He spun on his heel and continued on his way. "I'll see you around, mon chérie."

Alec stared after Sebastian's retreating figure. That conversation had completely baffled him on so many different levels. He looked at his hand, to where Sebastian's number was printed into his skin, and retrieved his phone to add the number to his contacts. He didn't think he'd be getting into contact with Sebastian, but it was better to have the number anyway in case it was needed later.

Alec jumped off the railing and left the beach, walking in the opposite direction to Sebastian so their paths wouldn't cross.


End file.
